Gravity, Prisoner of Azkaban
by KellyZipcode
Summary: Katie Bell returns to Hogwarts, sure that her life with Oliver Wood will be perfect now that the Heir of Slytherin is gone.  But with dementors roaming the grounds and Sirius Black on the loose, how perfect can life be?
1. Apprehension

_AAAAND I'M BACK! Did you miss me? I certainly missed all of you. Here's that sequel I've been promising you guys. Sorry for the long wait, but I've been super busy, and it's still October, so I technically still made good on my promise! Oh and if you haven't read the Chamber of Secrets prequel to this (which I suggest you do), I'd just like to inform you that I put Katie in the same year as the twins and Angelina and Alicia, but other than that, it's alllll canon, baby! I'm dumb. But I'm excited. ENJOY._

**GRAVITY - PRISONER OF AZKABAN**

**CHAPTER 1 - APPREHENSION **

I hadn't seen Oliver in weeks.

Of course, I'd seen him almost every other day in June, even though we lived so far away from one another. More often than not, he and his family would come down and spend the weekend in Darlington. Our parents got along flawlessly, Olivia had even developed the biggest crush on Brandon, and without the Chamber of Secrets, things with Oliver and I had been better than ever.

The excuses started coming the last week of Juiy.

_"I can't, Katie, I've got to practice." "Katie, you know better than anyone that I need to plan ahead." "Katie, if I slack off now, imagine what that'll do to the team!" "It's my last year, Katie. You know what this means to me."_

Ever since he had joined the team, all Oliver dreamed of was winning the Quidditch Cup and with this year being his final year at Hogwarts, it was his last chance. I couldn't argue with him.

I missed him terribly, but that made me all the more excited to get back to Hogwarts. With nothing to worry about except winning the Quidditch Cup, this year was going to be the greatest. Absolutely _nothing_ was going to ruin it. Or at least that was what I kept telling myself.

"Oliver, meet me on the platform. I'll be there by ten-thirty at the latest. I miss you." I had trained myself to stop expecting him to answer when I called, but it was the last day of summer holiday. No matter how much he ignored my calls or how much time he spent practicing all summer, I would see Oliver tomorrow. And there was not a damn thing he could do about it.

As usual, my trunk was all packed and ready to go about a month in advance. About a week before, I had moved everything down by the front door, ready to pack up the car the moment August ended. I woke before the sun on the morning of the first of September. I knew I wouldn't be able to fall back asleep, despite having only gotten an hour of rest - I was just too excited - so I meandered downstairs to the still dark kitchen and made a pot of tea. Five cups later, the sun had almost broken the horizon, and my eyes had just begun to droop from my sleepless night when someone cleared their throat behind me.

"Isn't it a little early?" I jumped and splattered the rest of the tea on my dressing gown. My mother smiled and looked at me knowingly. I groaned.

"You'd think you'd know your own daughter. I always get up this early this time of year," I said matter-of-factly as I trudged to the sink to clean my dressing gown and the dishes I'd made.

"I know," my mum said to my back. "I'm just mocking you." I could hear the smile in her voice.

"Well, stop it," I countered, and I knew she could hear the smile in mine. "I can't help that I'm excited."

There was a moment's silence. "To get back to Hogwarts or Oliver?" Her voice was serious.

The water from the tap dinged on the teakettle louder than it should have.

"Hogwarts," I said after only the slightest pause.

"But you're just as excited to see Oliver, aren't you?" My mum was the definition of tenacious.

"Well, of course I'm excited to see him. Why wouldn't I be? He is my boyfriend after all. And I miss him." I went back to washing the dishes. It didn't make sense - what did it matter to my mum if I was excited to see Oliver or not?

"Katie, I'm worried about you. I know you're more excited about seeing him than you let on and I'm just worried that-"

I switched off the water and turned to face her. "Worried about what? That he doesn't love me anymore or something?" My voice was more acerbic than I'd meant it to be.

"No, but... he hasn't been paying much attention to you, and frankly... Well, I'm just worried that things won't change much at Hogwarts."

My temper surged through me like boiling water and before I was able to stop myself, I was mouthing off to my mother. "You think he doesn't care about me? You're wrong! He's just busy being the best god damn Quidditch captain Hogwarts has ever seen. You'll see! We're going to win the Cup this year and everything is going to be perfect and then-"

"Honey," my mum muttered, unfazed by my tirade. "Then Oliver is going to graduate."

Those were the words I'd been dreading all year. Silence pressed down on us once again and I turned back towards the sink and switched the faucet back on.

"I know," I said quietly as I began rewashing my already clean teacup.

"Okay," she said simply. "I just don't want you to get your hopes up. He is older than you."

"I know," I repeated.

"I'm going to go wake your father up," she said, then she turned and headed up the stairs without another word.

I didn't know what was harder to accept. My mum was right: Oliver _was_ leaving Hogwarts this year, and he _was_ older which meant there was the possibility that he would choose to leave me behind. He would be a Quidditch star and I would be just another girl at Hogwarts.

But the fact I could just not wrap my head around was the one that was the most imminent: What if, even when we were finally together again, nothing changed?

I gulped resolutely. _No._ Things were going to be fine. I would be seeing Oliver in a couple of hours and it would be like nothing had changed. He loved me and there was no way around it.

The moment the clock chimed ten, we arrived at Kings Cross. My mum and I both acted like this morning's exchange hadn't happened. My dad had only just wrapped his arms around my trunk to heave it out of the car when I took off into the station. It was packed. Although the Muggles paid them no attention (for the most part - it was hard not to notice the owls), I recognized dozens of Hogwarts students already making their way to platform nine and three-quarters. It took everything in me to not run through the barrier the minute it came into view. As patiently as I could, I squatted down by the wall and waited for my family.

"Jeez, Katie, with this much stuff, you'd think you were going away for a whole year!" my dad mocked as he stumbled his way through the crowd, my trunk in tow.

I rolled my eyes. "Sorry. I didn't mean to run off - it was just the excitement, you know."

"Yeah, yeah. We all know by now. Just come help me set this down before I break my back." I grabbed one side and he eased his hands to support the other.

"There you are!" my mum's voice carried as she advanced through the throng of people, a rather frantic look on her face. It wasn't until she broke through the crowd that I saw she had my little brother Brandon by the arm.

"You trying to run off again, B?" I asked as I ruffled Brandon's hair. He tried to dodge me, but I had too good of reflexes for it to work.

"Yes, he was," my mum chimed in. "Brandon seems to think that sleep is more important than seeing his sister off to school."

Brandon folded his arms and jutted out his lower lip. "It is. So I won't see her for a few months? Big deal."

"I get it," I said, speaking to my mother. "Besides, just think that in a few years he'll be off to Hogwarts too. Sleep won't seem so important then." I bent down to Brandon's level and looked him squarely in the eyes. "And at any rate, you _will_ miss me, you big liar." I placed him hands on either side of his face and made to kiss his cheek. Though he was pushing against me with all his strength, he couldn't stop my lips from planting a big, wet, nasty kiss on his cheek. He surrendered with a loud chorus of "Gross!" but was smiling when I pulled away. My dad was standing with his arms held out wide to the sides.

"Come here, Kates. Give your old man a hug." Brandon ran out of the way and I moved over to my dad who wrapped his arms around me so tightly I heard some bones crack. Thank Merlin Oliver wasn't around to hear it. As he let go, my dad said, "We'll miss you."

That left my mum, standing quietly next to my dad with tears glistening on her eyelashes. She sniffled pathetically as she surveyed me.

"Oh, mum," I sighed as I took her in arms. I heard a small sob escape from her so I rubbed her back comfortingly. "It's only for a few months. I'll be back at Christmas! And this is the fifth time we've done this! You'd think you'd be used to it by now."

"I know," she whimpered, trying to sound strong but failing miserably. "But you don't get used to it. You'll see." I leaned back to look at her. "When you're in my position, sobbing like a fool because you're sending your child away for a whole year, I'll be there to say 'I told you so.'"

I shook my head at her. "I'm only fifteen, mum. I've got a while to go until I reach _that_ point." Somewhere a clock chimed to designate that it was ten forty-five. "But I don't have a while to wait now. I have to go. I promised everyone I'd be on the platform at ten-thiry." She nodded. "I love you."

She pulled me in once more and stroked my hair. "Love you, too."

"Love you, Kates," my dad said as I heaved my trunk into my arms. My brother feigned a sudden interest in the nearby light post, and it wasn't until my dad nudged him hard in the ribs that he said, "Love you, Katie."

"I love you, too. See you in December!" With one final smile, I turned around and ran headlong through the barrier.

And there it was - the Hogwarts Express, it's scarlet paint gleaming in the late morning sun. That was all I had time to appreciate because at that exact moment, a pair of arms wrung themselves around my neck and I almost toppled over as I dropped my trunk.

"KATIE!" Alicia Spinnet crowed. "We've been waiting for you!" After a whole minute, she finally let go and when she did, I noticed Angelina Johnson standing behind her. She smirked at me.

"So much for always being early," Angelina said slyly. She wound her arms around me, though not quite as uncomfortably as Alicia. "You do know that it's nearly eleven, right?"

My watch reinforced her words. "Sorry about that. My family just keeps getting crazier and crazier each year. Speaking of people who get crazier and crazier each year, have either of you seen-?"

"Crazier and crazier?" a male voice interrupted. My heart skipped a beat and I turned around.

"You wouldn't happen to be talking about us would you?" Fred and George Weasley were standing behind me with identical crooked grins and quirked brows.

"George!" I cheered before I pounced on him.

"Careful around the face, love," the redhead advised as he patted my head. "This is my moneymaker."

"There's the sense of humor I've been missing all summer." I snuggled closer.

Fred cleared his throat. "I suppose I'm just a sideshow or something, then?"

"Oh, come here, Fred," I said as I pulled him in for a hug. "I've missed you just as much. Besides, what's one Weasley without the other?"

Alicia sighed. "A little less loud, but still unmanageable."

The twins gasped in unison. "Hurtful!"

"Come on, guys, we're gonna miss the train!" Angelina announced as she grabbed Fred's robes. George moved towards Alicia and put his arm around her and together they all started heading for the train.

"Where's Oliver?" I asked.

Angelina paused as the others continued on and faced me with a frown on her face. "Haven't seen him yet. And I've been here since about ten."

"I told him to be here at ten-thirty," I mumbled. "I haven't heard from him, let alone _seen_ him, in weeks."

"Don't worry, Katie. He'll be here. You know he wouldn't dare miss a chance to drone on about Quidditch, not with all of us so conveniently together." I nodded glumly. "Come on, let's go get a compartment before they're all full. Oliver will find us later."

She had to drag me by my sleeve.

There wasn't much for me to say on the ride to school. Fred and George exuberantly told us about the trip their family had won to Egypt (and how they had tried to shut Percy in a pyramid). Alicia had travelled to the United States to visit some family and Angelina had gotten an internship with St. Mungo's. All I could say about my summer holiday was how Oliver had visited a few times and then how he had stopped returning my calls because he was so busy with Quidditch.

"Dear Merlin, already?" George voiced. "We've already had to deal with Percy being a Bighead Boy all summer and now we have to put up with _Captain_ Wood, too?"

"Did you expect anything different?" Angelina asked.

George shook his head, his eyebrows raised. "No, but I was hoping for at least _one night_ of freedom."

"Well, he's not here yet," Alicia offered.

"Maybe he won't show up at all!" Fred said hopefully.

I looked out the window. It was pouring down rain.

I can't remember what was said after that; I tuned out the conversation from that point. It wasn't until the train came to a sudden halt that I came out of my reverie.

"Yes, dinner is so much closer!" Fred said merrily as he stood up from his seat.

Angelina pulled him back down next to her. "We're not there yet." She looked at her watch. "We can't be..."

Fred didn't seem the least bit perturbed. "My hopes are too high for you to crush them right now, Angelina." He stood up again and poked his head out the compartment door, but only for a moment as suddenly, the lights shut off and the entire train became pitch black.

"What's going on?" Alicia whimpered. From what little light the window offered, I saw her scoot closer to George.

Fred pulled his head back in a minute later. "Dunno. And judging by all the heads sticking out in the hall, no one else seems to either." He slid the compartment door shut and stumbled through the dark back to Angelina.

All I could think of was Oliver. Where was he? Did he know what was going on any better than we did? Was he even _on_ the train?

Goosebumps formed on my arms and travelled up the back of my neck, setting the little hairs there on end.

Maybe he missed the train. Maybe he wasn't even going to be there this year. Maybe I'd already seen him for the last time.

"Guys, there's something in the hall," Angelina whispered frantically.

Maybe this was Oliver's way of telling me he didn't want me anymore. I was too young, too ugly, too stupid, too much trouble. Not good enough in any way, shape, or form.

A large dark shape glided by the door, paused, and took one long rattling breath.

Oliver didn't want me. My mom was right. I was a waste of space. I was hopeless.

I heard someone gasp for air in a silent sob, her breath shaking like a flame in the wind.

_There was no point in my existence._

"Alicia, calm down," George muttered. She was crying quietly into his shoulder. "It's gone."

I looked to the compartment door and although the lights were still out, I could tell the figure was definitely gone.

"Katie. Katie, are you all right?" Angelina was rubbing my shoulder. She sounded composed but her eyes said otherwise.

My voice wouldn't let me answer. "Y-yeah. I'm fine." I couldn't tell her what I had really just been thinking. It all seemed absurd now.

"I can't believe they let a dementor on the train!" Fred exclaimed, his voice flamed with anger.

Through all my years at Hogwarts, I'd never heard the word before. "W-what's a dementor?"

"You know Azkaban, right? The wizard prison?" Fred asked. I nodded. "Well, that thing was one of its guards." He said nothing further. Something told me I didn't want to know any more. The lights flickered back to life - it seemed painfully bright.

"Why would it come on the train?" Alicia asked, her eyes wide with fear.

Fred shook his head. "I don't know. All I can think of is Sirius Black, but why the bloody hell would he be on the Hogwarts Express?"

George cleared his throat. "Well, I don't know about you, but if I was in prison for twelve years, the first thing I'd obviously fancy would be a trip to Hogwarts."

Everyone laughed, a little shaky, a little half-hearted, but laughed nonetheless.

The door slammed open. I nearly fell off the seat. Fred did.

"D-d-dementor! Dementor!" blubbered an ashen-faced Draco Malfoy. His forehead was covered in a sheen sweat and he was positively trembling from head to toe.

"Yes, Malfungus, that's what they're called," Fred said as he climbed up from the floor. "Now go find your mummy." He shoved Malfoy back out into the hall and slammed the door in his face. "Brainless git."

The rest of the ride was considerably more enjoyable, but everyone still seemed a little off, though none of us mentioned the dementor again. Soon enough, the train eased into Hogsmeade station. The twins had pushed their way to the front of the anxious crowd waiting to be let off before the train even came to a complete stop. I stayed behind, my still high hopes promising me that Oliver was bound to run into me any moment. Angelina stayed with me, her arm securely around my shoulders. She knew why I was in no hurry, and I was ashamed of it.

The entire mass of students quickly emptied out onto the platform into the sheeting rain. Oliver was still nowhere to be found.

Fred, George, and Alicia reunited with us at the carriages and immediately began cracking jokes about Malfoy again. The rain continued to fall, maybe even harder, and once again, I started losing hope that I would see Oliver tonight. Or at all.

Too slowly for my taste, the horseless carriages creeped towards Hogwarts, its outline blurred by the raging rain. It didn't seem as magnificent as usual.

As we passed by the gates with the winged boars, I noticed two tall dementors standing guard on either side. Alicia shivered next to me. George held her tighter. I would never get that feeling from Oliver again.

I climbed out of the carriage and drifted to the Great Hall in a daze. Nothing seemed to matter much anymore; Hogwarts was just school now. The twins, Alicia, Angelina, and I took our usual seats at the Gryffindor table. Gold plates and goblets gleamed invitingly at us, but I wasn't hungry. Steadily, the empty seats were filled - all except the one next to me. I'd all but given up hope when Alicia shoved my shoulder.

"Katie, it's Oliver!"

I snapped my head up, looked at the entrance, and there he was. Oliver's hair was drenched and his robes were dripping a terrible mess on the floor (Filch was glaring daggers at him). He looked around for a moment then his eyes zeroed in on mine and a smile lit up his face. It seemed out of place with the rest of his appearance. So fast he might've been on a broom, he raced towards me, the crazy smile still plastered on his mouth.

"Katie," he sighed with relief, his breaths only slightly labored. He held his arms wide.

I got up and stood next to him. Then I slapped him in the face.

_And there you have it! Chapter one is all done! Rate and review and I'll write chapter two _:)

_(See what I did there? Did you enjoy my little poem? Jk, I've got some mad poetry skills if I do say so myself, and that is not an example of it.)_


	2. Sparks

_**Oliver's back! This one is kind of short, but it definitely puts the story in motion, if you ask me. And besides, my roommate is getting me all inspired so it shouldn't be long until I update again. Actually, I lied. It might be a little while because this weekend I'M MEETING TEAM STARKID. And I might die of happiness from meeting Brian Rosenthal. But that's if I don't already die of Darren Criss overload on Glee. And then there's this little movie coming out on November 19th that I'll be seeing. You might have heard of it - it's about a boy named Harry. So I'm set all next weekend too. Then it's Thanksgiving and I'll probably have homework galore, but I PROMISE I'll write whenever possible. There will be another chapter released sometime before Thanksgiving (which is November 25th, for those of you across the pond who didn't know). Anyways, HAPPY READING!**_

**CHAPTER 2 - SPARKS**

"What was that for?" Oliver yelped as his hand flew to cradle his cheek. It was already burning red.

"That was for ignoring me all summer," I growled. His eyes drooped the slightest bit and he lowered his hand.

I slapped him again.

"Ow! What was _that_ for!" he shrieked. This time, he shielded his entire face with his hands and backed away a full step.

"_That _ was for being an oblivious arse."

"Well, are you down now?" he asked desperately.

I pondered for a moment. He cowered. "Yes." Crossing my arms tightly, I sat back down on the bench without another glance at him. Next to me, Alicia whooped as Oliver sat down on my other side.

Oliver cleared his throat and began apologizing - he was still sitting a safe distance away from me - but was interrupted by Professor McGonagall who announced the beginning of the Sorting.

Countless new Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Slytherins later, Oliver took a deep breath and began again ("Katie, I'm sor-"), but was again interrupted. This time by Dumbledore.

"Welcome! Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast..." I glanced at Fred and George. They were practically drooling at the mention of food. Dumbledore cleared his throat and brought me back to attention. "As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business." A quiet murmur broke out amongst the hall as Dumbledore paused, but it silenced when he spoke again. "They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds, and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises - or even Invisibility Cloaks. It is not in the nature of a dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the dementors."

"There he goes again," I heard Fred complain under his breath. As I followed his line of vision, I saw Percy sticking his chest out importantly, a gleaming badge pinned to his cloak. No one else seemed to notice him.

"On a happier note," Dumbledore continued in a lighter tone, "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." A man in dilapidated robes stood up to rather lackluster applause. "As to our second new appointment, well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to spend more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."

In all my years at Hogwarts, I had barely spoken a sentence to Hagrid, but I knew him well enough to know that he was more than deserving of the job. I wasted no time in joining the rabid cheering that echoed from the Gryffindor table.

Dumbledore's smile was wide on his face. "Well, I think that's everything of importance. Let the feast begin!"

"Katie, I'm sorry," Oliver immediately began.

I did my best not to smile. I knew Oliver well enough to know that his apologies were sincere - and, after all, I _had_ gotten my revenge - but it was more fun to mess with him. I ignored him completely.

"Katie?"

I said nothing, and after a few more minutes of his badgering, he gave up and began eating his meal. It was only after I'd made sure he was distracted (he'd entered into an argument with the Weasley twins about Quidditch practice) that I chuckled quietly to myself.

Fred and George were the last to finish eating, with the exception of two Slytherins that distinctly resembled trolls.

"I don't know about you, Fred," George mumbled as he rubbed his stomach, "but I feel like I just ate the entire Giant Squid."

"Speak for yourself," Fred replied after a particularly nasty belch. "I'm set for round two."

"More like round seven," Alicia said with her nose wrinkled. "You guys are pigs."

"Don't you mean, 'devilishly handsome pigs?'" Fred asked slyly.

George nodded. "It's true. Veelas have got nothing on us."

Alicia rolled her eyes. "Yeah well, come on, Beautiful, it's time for bed."

George patted his stomach once more. "Your wish is my command, Alicia dearest." He rose from the table and proceeded to bow to her, but with a great booming sound, he passed gas instead.

"Gross!" Angelina complained from across the table as she stood up.

"Oh, the odor of love!" Fred exclaimed. George laughed and linked his arms with Alicia as Fred did the same with Angelina. Both girls cringed away, but did not let go. That was the thing about Quidditch - you became immune to the disgusting habits of boys. Well, either that or you developed them yourself.

"Are you going to talk to me now?" Oliver was staring at me with wide eyes. I turned to face him but didn't say a word.

"You're not going to hit me again, are you?" He recoiled even as he said the words.

I raised my hand and he flinched as I touched it to his face, but I left it there against his cheek and leaned in to gently kiss him on the lips. When I pulled back, he looked down at me puzzled.

"You're not going to hit me again, are you?" he repeated.

"I'm contemplating it," I said with a smirk. Together, we headed out of the Great Hall and into the halls of Hogwarts and the mob of students.

We had made it to the third floor before he again said, "I'm sorry, Katie." His voice was solemn.

"Apology accepted," I said simply. "In fact, your apology was accepted about a half hour ago. I just never said anything because it was too fun torturing you."

"You little bugger," he quipped as he ruffled my hair. I batted his hand away.

Once we reached the seventh floor, it was nearly void of students (I'd had to hold Oliver back when Percy pompously reprimanded him about not knowing the password - thank Merlin for Quidditch muscles), but the common room was absolutely packed with every size Gryffindor imaginable. Many kids had continued on with the dramatic retellings of their summer holidays, though most of the conversations, I noticed, had revolved around one thing: the dementors on the train.

Once we settled into a couch by Angelina, Alicia, and the twins, I couldn't help myself from blurting out, "So where were you?"

Oliver paused. "Well... I was in Scotland, and now I'm here... which is still in Scotland." Fred and George laughed.

"I know that, you pinhead. What I meant was, why weren't you on the train?"

A crease deepened between his brows. "I _was_ on the train. How else do you suppose I get back to Hogwarts?"

"I've been told traveling by Flying Car is positively spiffing," Fred said as he pointed at Oliver.

I frowned. "So if you were on the train, how come you didn't sit with us? How come I haven't heard from you all summer?"

Oliver shrugged. "I didn't know where you were and it didn't seem important at the time. I'm with you now, so what does it matter? And you know I was busy with Quidditch."

I folded my arms. "But you could have at least returned my calls."

He did the same. "I don't know how to use _that_ _contraption_."

My eyebrows shot up into my hairline, or at least it felt like they did. "Well, you did earlier in the summer, you know, when you actually acknowledged my existence."

"Katie, you know Quidditch is my priority. This year-"

"Stop." I glared at him.

"I think we should go to bed," I heard Angelina mumble to the others.

"Are you kidding?" George said enthusiastically. "The night's just begun!"

"No, we need to leave," Angelina persisted as she dragged Fred towards the staircases. Alicia did the same to George, though he was very reluctant.

"You, you of all people, know Quidditch is my life!" Oliver yelled as he quickly stood up.

I could feel the all-too familiar anger bubbling in the pit of my stomach as I rose to face him. "Yeah, I do! And you'd think by now I'd know how big of an arse you are, too!"

"It never seemed to bother you before!" he spat back.

"I guess that's because you at least seemed to care last year. Maybe I should go find another basilisk. _Then_ would you care again?"

His mouth dropped open the slightest bit and he didn't say a word, but he glowered at me through narrowed eyes. I stared right back, daring him to answer. After a moment, he sighed defeatedly and ran a hand through his hair so it stuck up in all different directions.

"You know what? Let's just stop fighting. I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere. At least not until classes start, but I don't think McGonagall would let me..." He trailed off as he looked down at his feet. "Can't we just...say we missed each other and move on like normal people do?"

I sighed too. "You're right. I'm sorry for blowing up at you like that. I've just... well, I've missed you. I hadn't heard from you in weeks and then you weren't there this morning and then on the train-"

His lips were on mine before I could say another word.

"Gross!" yelled a kid from somewhere, just like Angelina had in the Great Hall. I smirked against Oliver's lips, but the kiss was over as soon as it had begun.

"What was that for?" I asked as we broke apart.

"I've been holding that in for a long time now," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "So now that that's all taken care of," he said as he sat back down and pulled me with him, "tell me about the train ride."

I recounted the appearance of the dementor, though I left out the thoughts that had been running through my head at the time. Oliver had had much the same experience (he had crammed into the only somewhat vacant compartment he could find that just happened to be filled with awed first years).

"All I could think about was losing the cup, Katie." He paused and shifted his eyes uncomfortably. "It was terrible." His voice cracked on the last word.

My mind drifted back to the thoughts that had consumed me around the dementors. "Yeah, terrible," I agreed.

Oliver rubbed my shoulder and pulled me closer to him. Many of the students had left for bed already and it had grown comparatively quiet. Only older students and a few too-excited-to-sleep first years lingered.

"So...why were you late?" I asked after a few moments of comfortable silence.

He looked down at me, his face aghast. "You have to ask?"

"Shall I rephrase? What Quidditch-related thing kept you from arriving on time?"

Though they were tired, his eyes still shown with that fanatic gleam at the mere mention of the sport. "We were just about to leave, when this genius play hit me. And I'm not even going to bother with being modest, this play is _genius_. You see..."

I let him continue on, but about halfway through, I couldn't concentrate. His voice faded into the background as I drifted off to sleep against his side. It wasn't a necessarily peaceful sleep, though - Oliver talks with his hands. Especially when he talks about Quidditch. And chances are, if Oliver Wood is talking, it's going to be about Quidditch.

_**Rate and make my day **_**:)**


	3. Misgivings

**Here you go! I promised you I'd have it out before November 25th! Okay, so it technically is Thanksgiving now, but since I haven't gone to bed yet, I still like to think it's November 24th. Anyways! I MET TEAM STARKID. Joey Richter is officially the nicest person on the planet. Brian Holden is the shit. And Brian Rosenthal is my favorite, not that he already wasn't before. It was probably the best day of my life, which is rather pathetic, but this is me caring! To top off this wonderful month, DEATHLY HALLOWS PART 1 was released! At first, I really didn't like it (which scared me because I've never **_**not**_** loved a Harry Potter movie), but now that I've seen it again, I love it. Not my favorite, but I could easily see it once more. Or twice.**

**And now for some thank yous! **

**Crazy-Obsessed-Writer52: I hope this update was soon enough for you.**

**kraney: Ahh it's so good to hear (or rather see?) from you! I'm glad you get so excited when I update. It definitely makes it worthwhile haha**

**XritaskeeterhatersX: Thank you!**

**Kynzi: Thanks! And here's more!**

**PeopleWatchMePeopleWatching: New reviewers always make my day! And yep, Oliver's pretty thick. Don't worry, there are going to be confrontations aplenty in this story :)**

**Enough with all that. Credit to J.K. Rowling where credit is due!**

**CHAPTER 3 - MISGIVINGS**

"So what have we got today?" Fred asked George through a full mouth of eggs at breakfast the next morning. Naturally, the twins took all the same classes.

George's eye traveled up and down the schedule McGonagall had just handed him and he grimaced. "History of Magic."

Fred groaned.

"It gets worse, mate. Double Potions."

Fred shook his head solemnly. "Don't even continue. Just kill me now and get it over with." He slumped onto the table, his head on his arms.

George shrugged. "Suit yourself, but if you died now, you'd miss Defense Against the Dark Arts."

At this, Fred perked back up. "Defense Against the Dark Arts, you say?"

George nodded.

"I'm excited to see what that new professor is like," Angelina said as she regarded her own timetable.

I was quick to agree. "Me too, if I can make it through Divination first, that is." Yeah, I took Divination, but I swear to Merlin I only did it for the laughs. Angelina had dropped it after our third year, but Alicia dutifully stayed with me. It was safe to say she made the class almost fun. Her impressions of Trelawney were spot on.

Oliver nudged me in the side. "You'd better make it through Divination. I won't have any of my chasers failing classes." He leaned in to purr in my ear, "Or my girlfriend." Color flooded my cheeks.

"Hey, Oliver, have you heard the news?" Fred interrupted.

Oliver cleared his throat and hastily said, "No," like he'd just been caught doing something he shouldn't.

Fred didn't seem to notice Oliver's embarrassment. "Guess who's trying out for the Ravenclaw team."

Oliver shrugged and quirked an eyebrow. "Flitwick?"

Everyone laughed at his joke, but mainly because the thought of tiny Professor Flitwick swerving between Bludgers was hysterical.

Once Fred regained his composure, he shook his head. "Nope." There was a pregnant pause as he leaned across the table. "Sarah Fawcett."

I watched as Oliver's eyebrows shot up. "Fawcett?"

Fred nodded, an odd gleam in his eyes. George's expression matched his; he'd obviously already heard the news.

I'd never heard the name before."Who's Sarah Fawcett?"

"Dearest Katie, were you not listening?" Fred asked. "I just said she was a Ravenclaw."

"Har-har."

Next to me, Alicia turned around, her index finger extended towards the Ravenclaw table. "That's Sarah Fawcett."

"Alicia, there are dozens of girls at that table-how do you expect me to-"

She thrust her finger forward. "That one, there! Next to Eddie Carmichael."

I saw her then, and it was a wonder I hadn't noticed her before. Her hair was long and blonde-like a golden waterfall, it cascaded down her back. She was talking very animatedly with Carmichael, her hands weaving gracefully throughout the air. From where I sat two tables away, I thought I could make out her laugh; it sparkled like wind chimes.

"_She_ is trying out for Quiddtich?" I asked without looking away. Someone called her name from further down the table and she whipped her head around. Her hair glided through the air as she turned and without realizing what I was doing, I ran a hand through my too-flat-too-dull hair.

"Katie, Katie, don't be so quick to judge." George said.

Angelina nodded. "Yeah, she's actually a really nice girl. I had to work with her in Arithmancy once. She made the class actually bearable. And she's pretty into Quidditch." She furrowed her brow the slightest bit. "Come to think of it, that's probably why we got on so well, so I suppose it was only a matter of time until she tried out for the team."

Carmichael had tapped her on the shoulder and she elegantly flung her hair around once more. I watched as he jerked his head before Sarah Fawcett herself turned to look at me full into my face. Her eyes were wide and shining-it was almost as if all my thoughts about her were reflected back to me in her eyes. Trying to pass it off like I had simply zoned out, I broke my eyes from hers and glanced around the room a bit before facing my plate once more. Mark my word, I would have bet galleons that I heard her giggle.

Time was running out before the start of classes, so I quickly shoved the rest of my breakfast down my throat but I nearly choked when I noticed Oliver was still staring at the Ravenclaw table.

I spat out a piece of sausage that I had struggled to dislodge from my throat. "Oliver?"

"Hmm?" He still did not look away.

"Oliver."

"Yes?" he said, rather cross. If anything, his gaze intensified on Sarah Fawcett.

George raucously slammed his hands down on the table. "Oi, Quaffle!"

So fast that he almost hit me in his haste to move, Oliver flung himself off the bench and immediately began scanning the room, eyes narrowed, jaw set.

"Flint, the filthy bastard-" he began.

"Calm down, mate!" George called. "Only joking!"

Oliver did not relax. I scrambled to get up and was once again nearly knocked down by Oliver in his desperation to find the nonexistent Quaffle. I steadily placed my hands on his shoulders and turned him around. "Wood, there's no Quaffle. George was kidding, just trying to get your attention-although I wouldn't say he accomplished that. Now sit down before you give yourself an aneurysm."

At the word, his eyes finally softened before they became confused. "Give myself a what?"

"Nevermind, just sit down." I sat back down on the bench and picked up another bite of sausage. Oliver had one leg straddled over the bench when the bell rang. "Or not," I grumbled as my fork clattered to my plate and I stood back up. With a pang in my chest, I noticed Oliver was still looking at the Ravenclaw table. I followed his line of site and sure enough, Sarah Fawcett was at the other end and she was smiling radiantly back at him. My eyes flashed to his face, but the emotion it held was one I could not identify.

"She wants to play Quidditch," he said dazedly.

As fast as my feet could carry me, I rushed to the exit. History of Magic had never seemed so inviting.

I didn't speak much to Oliver at lunch that day, but that was mainly because I didn't know what to say. Every time I tried to talk, I imagined him glancing over at the Ravenclaw table again, so I just let him talk to me and I stuck to nodding. Soon-but not soon enough-it was time for Defense Against the Dark Arts with Alicia, Angelina, and the twins. I had been hoping that their excitement would be contagious and drown my worries, but I walked into the classroom feeling just as lousy as I had all day.

Professor Lupin was standing at the head of the room, looking rather shabby and rather awkward, but when he spoke, his voice was filled to the brim with confidence. "Good afternoon, class." Some students mumbled back greetings, except for Fred and George who replied with a hearty, "How-de-do, Professor Lupin!"

"Quite fine, thank you, quite fine." The twins bowed ostentatiously before taking their seats. "Now, before you all get comfortable, I should tell you that we're taking a little trip. You see, today's lesson is a practical one." There was an excited murmuring around the room. Lupin raised his voice only slightly. "You may leave your books and bags here, but you'll need your wand. Now follow me, if you will." He strode right out of the room. Kids threw themselves out of their chairs, anxious to be at the front of the crowd. I was in no hurry, but I couldn't help it when George grabbed my arm and dragged me after him.

We ended up at the staff room and as we filed in, I noticed the wardrobe at the end of the room had given a nasty lurch.

"If you're wondering why that wardrobe is shaking, you're probably not alone," Lupin advised as he made his way across the room to where the wardrobe stood, still quivering madly. "However, is there anyone here who'd like to hazard a guess as to what's inside?"

I scanned the room. Everyone had diverted their eyes; some were filled with confusion, others with something like fear.

"No takers? Or perhaps you're all just being modest," he suggested. Still, no one raised a hand or uttered an answer.

"Inside this wardrobe is a boggart." There was a small, but very noticeable, collective gasp. "Now, though I suspect at least several of you know what a boggart is," he inclined his head knowingly, "I shall of course not deprive the rest of you of an explanation. Boggarts are shapeshifters. They like dark spaces such as cupboards under sinks or wardrobes," he gestured to the armoire, "and their purpose in life is to scare you. To do this, they feed on one's fears and in doing so, turn into whatever thing scares one the most."

The class remained silent.

Lupin pursed his lips. "Ah, perhaps it would be better with a demonstration. Could I have a volunteer?"

George's hand shot into the air. He was the only one.

"I take it you know what a boggart is, then?" Lupin asked as George pushed his way to the very front of the crowd.

George smiled sheepishly. "Just wanted to give someone else a chance to answer, sir."

"Very well, very well. Now," he said, turning his attention back to the rest of the class, "when I open this door, the boggart will come out, and it will have assumed the shape of Mr.-"

"Weasley, sir."

"-Mr. Weasley's greatest fear. Today's lesson is how to defeat a boggart, and it's quite simple. You see, laughter is what defeats a boggart because it is the exact opposite of fear, and something the boggarts are not able to tolerate. However, as laughter is not enough to finish a boggart alone, an equally simple spell exists to repel them. The incantation, repeat after me, is _Riddikulus._"

The word echoed around the room.

"Now, we're going to do this one at a time, but if it all works out, everyone should get a chance, so I want you all to be thinking about what frightens you the most and then try to think of something amusing-something funny that would chase the fear away. Mr. Weasley, you're going to go first so the rest of the class can see how it's done. Ready?"

George clenched his jaw, but nodded. He raised his wand. Lupin motioned the rest of the class back and stepped away from the wardrobe himself before pointing his wand at the handle. "On the count of three," he said. "One-two-three!" He flicked his wand and the door opened.

An exact copy of George stumbled out of the closet, fell to the floor, and began writhing in what was obviously pain. After a moment, the boggart-George stopped moving altogether. It was only after I finally tore my eyes away from the boggart and looked at the real George, whose face had lost all color, that I was able to make sense of the scene: the boggart was not George lying lifeless on the ground. It was Fred.

It took George a moment to move, let alone say anything, before he cleared his throat very loudly and then shouted, "_Riddikulus_!"

Almost immediately, the seemingly lifeless boggart-Fred popped up, clad in a bright pink tutu. The entire classroom bursted into laughter, George louder than anyone else.

Fred made a face. "Well, it's not really my color, but you must admit-those tights do wonders for the backside."

At least ten people had gone-we'd seen everything from a vampire with glittering skin to a spider wearing a red wig and a tutu-before it was my turn. I knew exactly what the boggart would turn into, too. That's not to say it was my greatest fear, but it had been all I'd been able to think about all day. I braced myself, not because I was afraid of the boggart, but rather because the rest of the class would now know my fear.

Right when I stepped in front of the rest of the group, the boggart transformed into the tall figure of Oliver Wood. He stared at me, cold, distant, full of hatred. I tried to say the spell, but I couldn't find anything funny about the situation. It was too real. Just like I'd found myself incapable of talking to the real Oliver, I couldn't utter a single word to this one. I opened my mouth once more and my wand shook with my hand as the boggart-Oliver sneered at me before he turned his back and walked away.

"No." I said more to myself than to it. As I watched Oliver make his way through the crowd, away from me, I heard the whispering. It was the only thing that forced me to concentrate. I focused harder than I ever had on any History of Magic essay at the thought of what I'd love to see happen to Oliver in real life.

"_Riddikulus_!" I shouted.

Just as the boggart-Oliver made it to the door, a Quaffle appeard out of thin air and thumped into his head. The boggart-Oliver reached up to defend himself against the ball, but like a Bludger, the Quaffle did not give up. It beat relentlessly against the fake-Oliver's head until the entire class had once again erupted into guffaws. Fred had found a chair and was standing on it, clapping like mad. Angelina was kept trying to pull him down, all to no avail, though she was incapable of hiding the smile on her lips. Alicia whooped and hollered with everyone else.

George didn't. He looked at me unblinkingly as I wove my way back into the crowd, concern etched into every line of his face. I turned away from him and pretended to laugh with everyone else.

When the entire class had had a chance with the boggart, Lupin said we were free to go. I followed Alicia and Angelina out the door, but once we were down the hall a bit, someone pulled me back.

"Mind if I have a word?" George asked. I looked at the girls for help. They looked back, unabashed. "Meet you back at the common room, then," he said before he pecked Alicia on the cheek. They walked on ahead, Fred in step with Angelina.

"What's up?" I tried my best to appear nonchalant.

"Don't think you're fooling me, Katie. I saw your boggart."

I dropped the pretense. Somewhat. "Yeah, so?"

"So, I'm worried about you. Something's going on with you and Oliver. I mean, yeah, he's always been a prick, but still. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. Really, I swear. I'm just a paranoid person, okay? So my boggart just happened to be Oliver? It's not big deal."

George looked down at me seriously. "Katie, it's not...healthy."

I crossed my arms. "When has my relationship with him ever been healthy?"

"I know, but still. I just-just be careful, okay? I don't want you to end up getting hurt or anything."

My breath caught in my throat. "What makes you think I'll be the one getting hurt in this situation?"

George shook his head quickly. "Nothing, nothing! I'm just worried is all."

I laughed, and I hoped he didn't realize how it sounded a little maniacal. "And this is coming from the guy who just pictured his twin dead as a doornail then in a tutu."

"Password?" the Fat Lady asked as we came to a halt in front of her portrait.

"Fortuna Major," George said. The portrait swung forward. George offered me a hand to help me through and he said, "We can't all be sane, love."

**And there it is! Not sure when I'll be updating next. I have a big paper due before break is over and then it's pretty much finals week, but I'll do my best! Besides, the quicker finals week comes, the quicker Christmas break comes, which means I'll be free from homework and able to update a ton! Anyways, please review and feel free to leave your thoughts on Deathly Hallows Part 1 while you're at it!**


	4. Jealousy

_**Here you go, guys! One last update before finals week! I pretty much did this one all in one night (and it is almost 1am and I'm exhausted, so forgive me if it's messy). And now it's time for some thank yous!**_

_**Brook-Lucas-Fan-23: I'm glad you liked the chapter! I was pretty proud of it, too :)**_

_**XritaskeeterhatersX: I can't tell you how much it means to me that you review every single chapter. Seriously, you're one of the reasons I write this story. And Oliver is a pretty stupid guy, when it comes down to it, so who knows what he's gonna do? Oh wait, that would be me ;)**_

_**Crazy-Obsessed-Writer52: Aw thank you so much for saying this story is one of your favorites! I loved doing their boggarts too. As for meeting Team Starkid, I can't believe I met them either. Maybe I'll give you guys some links to pictures or something :)**_

_**kraney: You're silly, leaving another review just to tell me to update before finals. But when it comes down to it, I listened and I wrote this chapter for you haha**_

_**KatGlebova: I'm flattered that you devoured my stories so quickly! I love getting new readers! Kind of ironic that you say they taste like chocolate and I write about Honeydukes the next chapter, eh? Thank you for reviewing! I look forward to more!**_

_**Princess-Amon-Rae: When I saw that I had 6 updates from this site, I pretty much freaked out. I'm so honored that you like my stories that much! Seriously, it means a lot. Just like KatGlebova, I'm excited to see what you think in the future. Thanks for reviewing and all that jazz!**_

_**And that's really all I have to say. Credit to JKR for creating Harry Potter and everything that goes with it, including the positively scrumptious Oliver Wood. And the story continues!**_

**CHAPTER 4 - JEALOUSY**

October flew in faster than a Firebolt: the leaves had already turned and the wind had begun biting at noses, exposed necks, and fingers. It was the first _official_ Quidditch meeting of the season (and I say official because every second you're with Oliver Wood, it feels like a Quidditch meeting). Owing to the fact that Fred and George had threatened to beat Oliver over the head with their Beaters' bats, we hadn't had practice yet, though Oliver did stress how important practices were going to be this year, and how often they would occur.

We were down in the locker rooms, where the autumn cold was able to follow. Oliver was pacing back and forth in front of us, a slightly disconcerted, yet not altogether unpleasant, look on his face. "This is our last chance - _my_ last chance - to win the Quidditch Cup. I'll be leaving at the end of this year. I'll never get another shot at it."

Angelina rubbed my arm comfortingly. I tried not to think of why that was necessary.

"Gryffindor hasn't won for seven years now. Okay, so we've had the worst luck in the world - injuries - then the tournament getting called off last year..." He gulped then, and I knew he was remembering that day clearly, though whether it was due to Quidditch or the other events that took place last year, I wasn't sure. "But we also know we've got the _best - ruddy - team - in - the - school_!" He punched the air and in the blink of an eye, the unsettled expression left his face only to be replaced by the usual euphoria.

"We've got three _superb_ Chasers," he said, pointing at me, Angelina, and Alicia. My face wasn't wide enough for my smile. I winked at him. Alicia whooped.

"We've got two _unbeatable_ Beaters," he declared as he pointed at the twins.

"Stop it, Oliver, you're embarrassing us," they said in unison. Together, the fluttered their eyelashes and pretended to blush.

"And we've got a Seeker who has _never failed to win us a match_!" He glared at Harry then, and if I hadn't known it was out of pride, I would've thought he was about to punch him. "And me," he added as though he'd forgot.

"We think you're very good too, Oliver," George said.

Fred agreed. "Spanking good Keeper."

"The point is, the Quidditch Cup should have had our name on it these last two years. Ever since Harry joined the team, I've thought the thing was in the bag. But we haven't got it, and this year's the last chance we'll get to finally see our name on the thing..." His voice cut off so suddenly that I wondered whether someone had placed a Silencing charm on him. I locked eyes with him for a second, saw him draw in an unsteady breath, then he hastily turned away from the group. Even Fred and George could find nothing funny about this situation.

"Oliver, this year's our year," promised Fred.

Next to me, Angelina was shaking with almost as much emotion as Oliver himself. "We'll do it, Oliver!"

"Definitely," said Harry.

After a tense moment of silence, all of our chests heaving with fresh determination, Oliver started back up again. "All right, so here's the plan. We train three nights a week, no matter what the weather conditions are. The more conditions we play in, the less we'll have to worry about the weather the day of the first match, which of course is against Slytherin. If anything, we have to beat them. I refuse to lose to Flint my last year."

I nodded as fast as I could.

Oliver himself nodded once, his jaw set. "All right, so we start practice tomorrow. Get a good night's sleep tonight and be ready. I don't care what homework you've got - we're practicing all night!"

Normally this would have sent the team into a loud chorus of groans, but instead, we all cheered ourselves hoarse.

"Erm…Oliver?" Angelina began hesitantly as we made our way out onto the field for practice.

He didn't hear her. "It's a bit windy today, team. Best be lookin' after yourselves. Especially Beaters."

"Oliver?" She timidly asked again.

"Chasers, you might want to aim a little off just to ensure that the wind doesn't blow the Quaffle off course. Don't forget that wind _does_ stop, of course. If you don't feel it blowing, then you should aim straight-"

I knew him well enough to know to get his attention, you had to be on the offense. "OLIVER!" I shouted, right in his ear.

He slammed his hands to his ears and backed into Fred on accident. "Bloody hell, Bell. Use your inside voice!"

"In case you haven't noticed," I gestured to the wide open sky above the pitch, "we're outside. And Angelina wants to ask you something."

He eyed her with a suspicious look on his face. "Yes?"

She shrunk visibly at his gaze. How odd. Aside from Oliver, Angelina was the one with the most balls on the team. Well, actually, I take that back. She beat Oliver.

"Hey, um. Well, I…I - can I leave practice early today?"

Oh. Now it all made perfect sense. Speaking those words was like pushing the button on a detonator. All that was left was for the bomb to explode.

Oliver glared at her. "You what?" He said it slowly. Dangerously.

Angelina spoke so fast, it all sounded like one really long word. "Well, you see, Sarah Fawcett asked me to help her practice. Their tryouts are next week and she's been having a bit of trouble with the right goal post. I was wondering if I could just…"

The look on Oliver's face silenced her. Any second now, he was going to burst.

"Only ten minutes early. You hear me, Johnson? _Ten minutes_."

She sighed, full of relief. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

I smacked myself in the forehead. "Are you mental! You're letting her train an _enemy_? What if it's just to spy on us? That's what you would normally think! What's wrong with you?"

Oliver looked at me like I was insane. "Bell, she's not the _enemy_. She's just an opponent. And besides, she hasn't even made the team yet." He blinked at me, completely unconcerned. I stared back, unable to form anymore coherent words due to the shock. "Now, let's focus on our practice, shall we? Fred, George - I'm letting the Bludgers out now. And Harry, here goes the Snitch!"

I missed a lot of shots that night to say the least, but the worst shot had to have been when Sarah Fawcett herself walked onto the pitch.

I barely had time to look down when Oliver blew the whistle.

"That's it for tonight, team! Good job from everyone!" We flew towards the ground, and Oliver landed beside me. I was anxious to have him to myself. We hadn't had much alone time due to all the practices and busier classes. My heart thumped as he closed the gap between us and leaned down to whisper in my ear, "Valiant effort, Bell, but you seemed a little off today. We'll have to work on that."

My jaw dropped and I froze in my tracks. Oliver walked away towards the locker rooms with the rest of the team where Sarah Fawcett stood waiting. Once I had gotten a handle on my uncontrollable urge to curse him, I ran after Oliver. When I caught up, they were all already in mid-conversation.

Sarah Fawcett was laughing again, but it didn't sound like bells anymore. Close up, it sounded sickly sweet, like cotton candy with an extra side of sugar. "You two are so funny!" She was looking at the twins. And they were blushing. _Blushing._

George waved a hand. "Oh, it's nothing. We've been known to crack the occasional joke, but other than that…" he trailed off and they erupted into fits of giggles once more.

I knew Alicia wouldn't let this go. As she so simply put it, "No one messes with her man!" I looked at her, expecting her expression to be absolutely livid, but she was laughing too.

"You think _that_ was funny? You should've seen the time when we went to see the Weird Sisters-!"

"The Weird Sisters? I _love_ the Weird Sisters! They're my favorite band. What's your favorite song?"

Just like everyone else, Alicia was filled to the brim with excitement. I couldn't comprehend her answer. I knew the story anyway. What plagued me now was the fact that the world had apparently gone topsy-turvy. Sarah Fawcett's next words caught my attention though.

"What about you, Oliver?" she said, a small smile playing on her lips, the ghost of another giggle.

I would have bet all the galleons in the Gringotts on his answer, because if I knew anything, it was how much Oliver hated girls like these. I turned to him, ready for someone to share my thoughts, but I was disappointed. He stood there, his mouth slightly gaping, his eyes wide on the golden-haired girl in front of him.

She giggled again and so did everyone else. "Oliver? What's wrong with him?"

George waved another hand. "Wood? Nothing. This is exceptionally normal behavior for him." Everyone laughed except Oliver, whose eyes remained on Sarah Fawcett's. She smirked at him.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

I grabbed fistfuls of Oliver's robes, pulled him as close to me as was physically possible, and crushed my lips to his in a kiss I didn't know I was capable of giving.

It took Oliver a moment to register what was happening, and in that moment, I savored him all I could because the world had turned upside-down and I didn't know what to expect anymore. When I finally pulled away, his eyes were bulging. I don't blame him - it was a miracle we remained standing.

"Woah," was all he said. He was out of breath and red in the face, but his eyes were locked on mine. I couldn't help but smile. I straightened up and fixed my robes.

"Well, I'm heading back to _Gryffindor_ Tower. You guys following me?" I asked. I turned without waiting for an answer, and made sure to aim my oh-so-dramatic hair flip straight at Sarah Fawcett. As I strutted away (or at least, that was what I hoped it looked like, though it probably looked more like I was drunk), I heard hurried footsteps behind me.

Oliver hooked an arm around my waist, a look of dazed wonder still on his face.

"You are mind-blowing, you are," he said, still slightly out of breath.

I smiled. "Now _that's _what I like to hear."

It was the first Hogsmeade trip of the year. The Gryffindor versus Slytherin match was just around the corner, and Oliver was at his wits' end. As a team, we'd coerced him into going with us, claiming that we would boycott the match if he didn't go. After all, this was our final day of freedom. It was another breezy fall day, and the shopfronts on the main street of Hogsmeade acted like a wind tunnel. I pulled my cloak closer and Oliver's arm tightened around my shoulders.

Alicia was practically bouncing with energy. "So where should we start? The Three Broomsticks?"

Fred gave her an incredulous look. "No, we want to go to Zonko's first."

Alicia shook her head. "No, _you_ want to go to Zonko's. You have no authority to speak for the rest of the group."

George shrugged. "I don't know. I'm rather fond of Fred's idea and that's already one-third of the group. How about we vote? All opposed, say I!" Before any of us had even opened our mouths to object, he declared, "Majority wins! Zonko's it is!" Fred high-fived him.

Alicia groaned. "Sometimes I wonder if you two exist only to make my life difficult."

George smiled and said, "You're right!" She glared at him and he kissed her on the cheek.

"How about this?" Angelina piped up. "The boys can go off by themselves to Zonko's and the three of us," she pointed to me, Alicia, and herself, "can go do our own thing. We can meet up at the Three Broomsticks after."

Oliver held up a hand. "You're making me go with _them_? Zonko's is one of the most dangerous places in Scotland as it is, but with them inside it's…it's like - a Wronski Feint! And not from the winning seeker's perspective!"

I placed a hand on his chest. "Oliver, I say this because I care about you: you are completely and utterly ridiculous."

He peered at me, relatively unfazed. "You say that now, but when I don't come back because I've died in some freak accident courtesy of Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum," he jerked a thumb at the twins, "you know you'll miss me."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, I'll miss you about as much as I'll miss Snape once I'm finally done with Potions this year."

His eyes went wide in shock.

"Kidding, Oliver! Learn to take a joke!"

"I have a feeling I'm going to be forced into that today," he said with a sigh. The twins exchanged mischievous looks.

"So it's settled," Alicia said. "We'll meet at the Three Broomsticks, say…in about an hour?"

Fred and George looked unsatisfied, but did not complain. Oliver nodded then he wrapped his arms around me tightly before the three of them left for the joke shop.

"All right!" Alicia said ecstatically as she grabbed Angelina and me by the hands. "Can we go to Honeydukes, first?"

Angelina didn't need telling twice. At the mere mention of the shop, she took charge and dragged Alicia and I toward the brightly colored sweetshop. Students were positively swarming from wall to wall, desperate to get their hands on any candy they could reach, and I couldn't blame them: the Hogwarts meals were good, but even the treacle tart had _nothing_ on a bar of Honeydukes' Best Chocolate. Once our hands were full with as many sweets as we could hold, we paid and headed back out into the cold.

"So Katie," Alicia said around a mouthful of Chocolate Frog, "what was with the display the other day?"

"What?" I knew perfectly well what she was talking about.

"You and Wood. I thought you two were going to do the deed, right there out on the pitch, in front of us all."

"Oh, that." My cheeks deepened in color and I hoped they would think it was because of the wind.

Angelina giggled. "What gives?"

I squared my shoulders. "It was that Sarah Fawcett. I know you like her, Angelina, but there's something about her. Something I don't like."

She gave me sort of an apologetic smile. Alicia said, "Ahh."

"'Ahh' what?"

She raised an eyebrow at me. "You're jealous."

"What? I never said - I'm not jealous."

Alicia's expression didn't change. "Katie, I know relationships like the back of a Quaffle. I like Sarah, but I saw her checking out Wood. Admit it: you were jealous."

I crossed my arms. "I was not jealous. I was just…frustrated."

"Unless you mean 'sexually frustrated', you're lying. I've never seen anyone pounce someone like that before."

I rolled my eyes. This girl was not going to give up. "Fine, Alicia. I was sexually frustrated. I just couldn't go another minute without shoving my tongue down Oliver Wood's throat. Happy?"

Alicia jokingly grimaced. "More or less disgusted, actually."

Angelina laughed. "Come on, let's go to Dervish and Banges."

We didn't have time to buy anything else because before we knew it, it was time to meet the boys back at the Three Broomsticks. We were there first - of course - so we picked out a table in the corner and ordered three Butterbeers while we waited for them to arrive. We heard the twins before we saw them.

"And then if we stick _this_ there, he'll never know what hit him!" Fred laughed. George was unfit to answer, as he too was laughing maniacally.

Oliver's eyes were wide as he hurriedly made his way to the table and sat down next me. "Don't ask me what they're talking about. I don't know and I don't think I want to."

The three of us giggled and the twins took their seats. They boys ordered Butterbeers. "At any rate," I said, "I'm glad you survived."

Oliver sighed. "Barely. I've been scarred for life."

I kissed him on the cheek. "But you're still alive, and that's all we need to get us through the match."

At the mention of Quidditch, his eyes lit up and he launched into a lecture about tactics for the upcoming game. Fred and George chose not to listen to him at all and Angelina and Alicia tried their best to tune him out.

Almost an hour later, Oliver had gone over every possible play we could make next weekend and we got up to leave. He held the door open for me and the outside air lashed at my face.

Everyone was in good spirits: the twins from their Zonko's purchases, Angelina and Alicia from their chocolate and the twins, and Oliver from Quidditch. This was the best day I could remember having in a long time, but everything changed when I heard Alicia say, "Hey, Sarah!"

I had been in discussion with Oliver about Slytherin's strategies when I looked up and saw Sarah Fawcett walking over to greet Alicia, a group of Ravenclaws behind her. I gritted my teeth, prepared this time: Oliver was staring at her again, though he said nothing. I was just about to march up to her and give her a piece of my mind when someone tapped my shoulder.

"Hey, Bell." It was Eddie Carmichael.

"Uh…hi." I'd never talked to him before, so I was at a loss of what to say.

"Having a good day?" he asked. I couldn't help but follow his line of sight; he was looking at Oliver who was still looking at Sarah.

"Yeah…splendid."

"Really?" He raised his eyebrows. "Because it doesn't seem like it. How about you and I go get a Butterbeer?"

I shook my head, unable to look away from Oliver. "No, thanks. We just came from the Three Broomsticks. I've already had three."

"It's not the drink I'm interested in."

I whipped my head around to look at him again. "Excuse me?"

"Wood here doesn't seem to be appreciating you. I just thought I'd give it a go."

"Are you…are you hitting on me?"

He looked back at me, unconcerned. "And what if I am?"

_Smack_.

That caught Oliver's attention.

"Is there a problem here, Carmichael?" he asked as he casted a dark look in his direction.

Carmichael didn't back down. "You'd better treat your girl better, Wood, or someone else might snatch her up."

Oliver clenched his fists. "Is that a threat?"

"What if it is?"

I heard Oliver's knuckles crack and I quickly grabbed both of his wrists. As much as I wanted to let him punch Carmichael, I didn't want him getting into trouble the week before the match.

"Come on, Katie," he said, throwing an arm around me. "We're leaving."

As Oliver guided me away, I saw a flash of anger cross Sarah Fawcett's face. The rest of our group saw us leaving and hurried to follow.

"You'd better keep her close, Wood!" Carmichael called after us.

Oliver's arm constricted around me so tight, it was painful.

_**That's all, folks. Hope you liked it. Now review and make me smile **_**:)**


	5. Calm

**Well, this is the first scenario I'd been dreaming of writing about since before I dreamed up the prequel to this story. It's nothing like I planned originally, but Katie and Oliver had their own ideas, which I just couldn't ignore. I guess that's a good thing. I hope you like it.**

**Many thanks to all the readers who reviewed the last chapter. There were too many of you to thank individually on here, so just know that I VERY much appreciate your effort and your input :)**

**On a side note, I GOT TICKETS TO STARSHIP. This is 2 life goals being accomplished within one year of each other (the other being how I met Team Starkid). I wish I could bring/have brought all of you with me. Speaking of that meeting, I posted a link to my tumblr in my profile which has a few pictures up from it if you're interested.**

**I'm rambling.**

**HAPPY NEW YEAR!**

**Credit to J.K.R. Particularly due to the many straight-from-the-book quotes in this chapter. You're bloody brilliant, J.K. Rowling!**

**Lastly, enjoy :)**

**CHAPTER 5 - CALM**

"I can't believe that idiot," Oliver complained as we made our way back into the comparatively warm castle. "What was he thinking? I mean, did you _hear_ how he was speaking to you? Like you were some kind of object - or - or prize? If there wasn't a match in a week, I would've - I would've…" he trailed off darkly.

"Calm down, Oliver," I said as I rubbed his arm. "It's not like I would've said yes or anything. Maybe my slap didn't make it clear for you, but I'm not particularly interested in him."

Alicia and the twins laughed. Angelina smiled but not as brightly as the others.

"It's a shame we didn't get to see more of Sarah, though. We'll have to invite her to join us next time."

Alicia nodded fervently. "I've been dying to go to Madam Puddifoot's. She says it's the best place in town."

George made a disgusted face and a small retching noise.

"Oh, come on, George, it'll be fun! We can all go! Sarah doesn't have a boyfriend, but I'm sure she'd be able to find someone to bring. She's rather attractive, if you know what I mean."

Fred raised his eyebrows. "If by attractive you mean bloody gorgeous, then yes, I know exactly what you mean."

Angelina glared at him and he stumbled as he missed a step up the marble staircase.

"'Bloody gorgeous?'" Angelina repeated dangerously.

Fred cleared his throat quickly. "Yeah, bloody. Like she's just been stabbed or something. Really a horrible sight."

"Mhmm.…" Angelina muttered as she narrowed her eyes. "I'm going to let that slide only because I know you're kidding, right?"

"Of course, dearest Angelina - love of my life, potion to my cauldron, Oliver to my Quidditch, Fred to my George!"

"Overkill, mate," Oliver said. I giggled.

Fred looked back at him. "Overkill? You're one to talk, Wood. Carmichael only asked Katie out for butterbeer, but judging by the look you gave him, you'd think he asked her to quit the team or something."

I had experience in this area. "So Oliver's a little bit protective? What's the big deal? Besides, I loved seeing the look on Fawcett's face."

Fred's eyes widened. "Protective? He's a down right drill sergeant! I thought he was going to rip Carmichael's arm off or something!"

"Can you please stop talking about me like I'm not here?" Oliver asked exasperatedly. "And besides, if I had ripped his arm off, the slimy git would have deserved it."

Fred was right. Overkill. "Look, as much as I appreciate the chivalry, Oliver," I said, "I can take care of myself. Leave Carmichael to me."

He nodded. "Sure. Besides, we were away from the teachers there. I would never do anything here. Not with a match so close. I'm not stupid, Katie," he added matter-of-factly. "I'll deal with Carmichael _after_ we win the game. My focus is on Quidditch now. It's more important."

That wasn't exactly what I'd had in mind, but I tried to pass it off like that was fine. Quidditch _is _what mattered and has _always_ mattered to Oliver, no matter what the circumstances, and that was all right by me. Or at least, that was what I told myself. George didn't seem as convinced as he looked at me through the corner of his eyes.

Oliver complained about Carmichael and enthused about Quidditch in equal measure the remainder of the way up to Gryffindor Tower, but when we came to the corridor that led to the Fat Lady's portrait, we found our path obstructed.

"What's going on?" Alicia asked as she stood on her tiptoes and tried her best to see above the many heads of the crowd before us.

George did the same. "I don't know, but it looks like the portrait's still closed."

"Don't worry," Fred said. "Here comes our dear brother Percy now, he'll be able to sort it all out. After all, he _is _Head Boy."

Sure enough, Percy was making his way through the crowd. "Let me through, please. What's the holdup here? You can't all have forgotten the password - excuse me, I'm Head Boy -"

Oliver was the only one in our group tall enough to see over the many heads, but as he was currently thinking up as many different ways possible to beat Carmichael with Bludgers, he didn't notice what had caused the entire crowd before us to go silent.

No one said a word until Percy ordered, "Somebody get Professor Dumbledore. Quick."

So quick he could have Apparated, Dumbledore was there, and as the host of students parted to let him through, I was able to see what had caused the delay.

The Fat Lady was no longer in her portrait. Strips canvas licked the floor where long gashes had ripped them from their base.

Just as the confusion had begun to morph into horror, McGonagall, Snape, and Lupin came hurrying through the corridor.

Dumbledore turned to McGonagall. "We need to find her," he said. "Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr. Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady."

But a voice other than Professor McGonagall's replied. "You'll be lucky!"

Peeves hovered into view, his face alight with a sort of sick pleasure.

"What do you mean, Peeves?" Dumbledore asked. And Peeves's voice grew more somber, though it had not all together lost its jeering tone, for even he was not one to provoke Dumbledore.

"Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful. Poor thing."

Dumbledore remained calm. "Did she say who did it?"

Peeves eyes glinted with mischief. "Oh yes, Professorhead. He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see. Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."

There was another moment of arrant silence. Then the bedlam broke loose, like water bursting through a dam.

"Black, here?"

"He's in the castle!"

"_Sirius Black_!"

Oliver's hand dropped to my own and he clasped it very tightly - too tightly. Beside me, I heard Alicia drawing in sharp, shallow breaths.

"Quiet, please, everyone," Dumbledore said in a commanding, yet still calm, voice that betrayed no hint of fear. "You will not be allowed back into this dormitory tonight. All of you will please head to the Great Hall immediately."

Less than ten minutes later, the whole of Gryffindor house had made its way back to the Great Hall, where the houses of Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin joined us shortly thereafter, looking bewildered.

"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle," Professor Dumbledore addressed us all. "I am afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge." At this, Dumbledore turned to Percy Weasley who puffed his chest out importantly. "Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately. Send word with one of the ghosts."

Percy nodded eagerly and instantly began surveying the hall for any such disturbance.

Dumbledore turned to head out of the room, but right as he hit the threshold, he about-faced. "Oh, yes, you'll be needing…"

He flicked his wand twice: once to move the four long tables up against the walls and again to conjure up hundreds of squashy purple sleeping bags that covered the floor a second later.

"Sleep well," Dumbledore advised as he left the room and shut the doors.

In less time than it took for Percy Weasley's head to inflate past its usual abnormally large size, our house filled in the other three on what had happened. Their responses were just the same, only three times louder, which made the whole scenario three times as chaotic.

Once again, the whole school was in hysteria, and in a blast from the past, I found myself short of breath.

Maybe it was just the onset of panic from the current situation: I had simply been in shock and the fear was just now materializing. Or maybe it was that the general alarm and paranoia was just too similar to that of the previous year. Or maybe it was because I'd been so paranoid of everything and everyone in the first place.

In that instant, I knew this year was going to be horrible. There was no way around it. Last year had been pretty bad, but in hindsight, it had also been the best year yet. Yes, there was the basilisk and the Heir of Slytherin and whatever that sickness I'd had was. But you see, those were all physical things. Things that weren't altogether unbeatable.

But things were different this year.

This time around, the monsters weren't concrete, but they were just as real, if not even more so, than the others. And as Oliver took my hand and led me toward a group of sleeping bags with the others, I couldn't help voicing my opinion.

"What's wrong with me?"

He looked at me with furrowed brows as he sat down on one of the sleeping bags. "Erm…you're perfect. Nothing's wrong with you." It sounded like a question.

I unsteadily knelt down on my own, right next to him, and shook my head. "No, something is wrong. Maybe not with me, but something is wrong."

Oliver looked a little scared now. It was George who answered as he lowered himself on to his own sleeping bag across from us. "Well, a psychopathic murderer just broke in and is now roaming about the castle, but other than that, things are perfectly fine."

I ignored him, but I couldn't ignore the concerned look he gave me before he turned away to talk to Angelina, Fred, and Alicia.

"Everyone into their sleeping bags!" Percy shouted from across the room. "Come on, now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!"

Like someone had turned down the volume dial on an old-fashioned radio, the hundreds of voices faded to whispers, but of course, no one stopped talking.

"Well, what's wrong then?" Oliver asked, completely lost.

"I don't know - I…" but I couldn't finish my sentence, not that I knew what to say anyways. Sarah Fawcett had just pulled up a sleeping bag next to Angelina, which also happened to be right next to Oliver, but for once, he didn't notice her.

"Is it me?" he asked with wide eyes. "Because if it is, I promise I didn't do it on purpose, whatever it is."

I wanted to tell him that he had nothing to do with my worries, but I wasn't capable of lying to him. As I looked past him at Sarah Fawcett, I finally understood.

"Oliver," I began as I looked down at my lap. "You love me, right?"

There was the slightest pause before he said, "Yes. Of course I do."

I shook my head and still did not meet his eyes. "No, I mean, you love _me_. No one else."

"What - yes, Katie. Who else would there be?"

I chanced a glance at his face: he looked just as confused as before, except now, slightly worried. Behind him, Sarah Fawcett was laughing at one of the twin's jokes. Her eyes locked with mine for the shortest second. I looked back down again.

"No one," I mumbled. Then I spoke no further.

Oliver crawled over next to me, too close."There's more."

I kept my eyes trained on my sleeping bag. "Well, you say that you love me-"

"I do."

A half-hearted smile tugged at my lips. "I know. But you say that now. What happens at the end of this year? Or next year, when you're off playing Quidditch and I'm just some boring girl from your past?"

At this, Oliver grabbed both of my hands and clasped them fiercely. "Listen to me, Katie Bell. You don't need to worry about that. You don't need to worry about anything." He paused. "Okay, well, maybe you should worry about Sirius Black a little bit, but other than that, nothing. You are a part of my life that I'm bringing with me wherever I end up, and no matter what happens, I'll always love you."

I finally looked at him then, and in doing so, I couldn't help but laugh. He looked affronted.

"Sorry, it's just that - well, that was pretty cheesy, Oliver. But hey, you've got to admit, it wasn't as bad as when you tried to spoon-feed me."

"Yeah, I'll admit that wasn't one of my better days."

We both laughed softly then, and before I knew it, everything seemed all right. Well, again, as all right as everything could be with a crazed murderer on the loose.

Percy came striding over then, a scowl on his face. I made to move away from Oliver, but he was faster: he grabbed my face and roughly pressed his lips to mine just as Percy approached us.

Percy cleared his throat so loudly, it echoed off the walls.

Oliver didn't pull away, and against my lips said, "Goodnight, Percy."

Percy stood his ground. I or at least I think he did: my view of things wasn't exactly clear at that moment in time. "Don't force me to take away points from my own house, Wood."

George came to the rescue. "Sod off, Perce. Go bother some other revoltingly mushy couple."

At this, I had to pull back. In the dim light that the stars in the ceiling gave off, I could see that Percy's face was turning red. Without another word, he turned on his heel and marched away. When I looked back at George, he winked at me.

Everyone got into their sleeping bags then, because with Percy stomping pompously around, there was no more fun to be had (or at least, as much fun as one was capable of having with a crazed murdered on the loose). I heard Angelina, Alicia, and Sarah Fawcett still whispering excitedly, no hint of lethargy in their tones, and while this should have bothered me, it didn't. Oliver pulled his sleeping bag as close to mine as possible and turned on his side to face me. He reached over and tucked my hair behind my ear. He was so close, I could feel his warm breath on my face.

"So, let me get this straight. You promise you won't just up and leave me when you graduate?"

His eyes bore into mine and then he voiced, "I promise. I'm not leaving you as long as you don't leave me. Promise?"

I pursed my lips. "I'll have to think about it." He popped his mouth open in a little "O" of mock-hurt. "Oh, all right. I promise. Now close your mouth or you'll catch flies. And if you do, I'm never kissing you again."

Oliver closed his mouth immediately and leaned over to kiss me.

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Katie."

I'd finally gotten answers to all the questions that had plagued my head since summer holiday, though my intuition kept insisting this was simply the calm before the storm. But it didn't matter: for in that moment, even with Sirius Black somewhere in the castle, I was happy, so happy, that not even Sarah Fawcett could ruin the night. She could've pounced on Oliver right then and there, and kissed him with more force than a Cruciatus Curse, and I wouldn't have minded, because as he looked into my eyes, I knew Oliver was mine and only mine.

**Did YOU like this chapter? Do YOU like making people smile? Then how about YOU review this chapter and tell me all about it.**

**Yep, I totes have a career in marketing. NOT.**

**Thanks for reading :)**


	6. Hurricane

**Longest. Chapter. Ever. Does that make up for the longest wait ever? Seriously sorry about that, guys. My schedule is craaaaazy this semester. I would have split this super, super long chapter into two smaller ones and updated sooner, but there just wasn't a good place to chop it. This whole chapter flows together quite nicely, I think, and I just couldn't ruin it. But i don't think you'll mind, since it's filled with drama and angst and fluff galore. And Oliver Wood. That helps any story. On to some reviewer mentions!**

**kraney - I don't even have to say anything to you here since we talk so much outside of my story. Just know that I love it when you review :)**

**Katamabob - I look forward to your reviews so much! Sorry that you live too far away to see Starship. If I could, I would bring you with me. If it's any consolation, I'll post pictures!**

**XritaskeeterhatersX - You know what? You are just the most loyal reviewer ever. Thank you SO much for sticking with me for so long. I'm glad you liked the last chapter.**

**Princess-Amon-Rae - If you love sappy stuff, you're going to love this chapter. Sorry it took me so long to update both times!**

**Crazy-Obsessed-Writer52 - Thanks! Wonderful? I'm blushing :)**

**Brook-Lucas-Fan-23 - Thanks for reviewing!**

**feelgoodlost - If it means anything, Sarah Fawcett ends up being the farthest thing from both Katie's and Oliver's minds at the end of this chapter :)**

**Thank you, everyone, for being so patient! I don't know when the next chapter will be out, but rest assured, things are going to get INTENSE.**

**An infinite amount of praise and credit to JKR, as there are many quotes taken directly from the book in this chapter. **

**CHAPTER 6 - HURRICANE**

Someone was whispering nearby.

I opened my eyes to the dim early morning light that drifted into the Great Hall through the enchanted ceiling and turned over to find the source of the noise. Angelina was mumbling in her sleep, a distressed look on her face. Slowly, I brought myself up to my elbows and into a sitting position. The sun had not yet broken the horizon, and from what I could make out in what little light there was, everyone was still asleep. Even the ever-important Percy Weasley lay slumped on the floor against the entrance to the Great Hall. I looked down at Oliver, who was still fast asleep on his stomach. His face was turned away from me, but from what I could see, his hair stuck up in all directions on one side and was pressed flat against his head on the other. He was lightly snoring.

I couldn't stifle the snort that escaped me - it caused Fred to snore and roll over. I jumped at the sound, for it echoed and bounced off all the walls in the room, and as I turned to look at him out of habit, I noticed something. Sarah Fawcett was asleep next to Oliver - looking like someone out of a Muggle movie - and her arm was extended towards Oliver. It was then that I realized that his face was also turned towards her.

As much as I wanted to look away, I couldn't, and as much as I told myself that they had only ended up like that after a night spent tossing and turning on the hard stone floor, I couldn't help but imagine the worst. I stared at the back of Oliver's head, repeating the words he'd said last night over and over again in my mind:

_You are a part of my life…No matter what happens, I'll always love you._

"Good morning."

I jumped again as Oliver's husky voice broke me out of my trance.

"Hey."

He reached up to rub his eyes and stretched. "How long have you been up?"

"Oh, not long. How'd you sleep?" I couldn't stop my eyes from wandering to Sarah as I spoke.

Oliver didn't notice. "Well, it wasn't the best night of my life, but in all honesty, it wasn't too bad. How about you?"

"Like you said, not exactly the best sleep, but -" I yawned "-it was sleep nonetheless."

Even though his eyes were half shut and his voice was only half there, I could feel the enthusiasm radiating out of Oliver as he said, "That's the spirit. Better be well-rested for practice tonight."

Then, just like anyone who even only knew Oliver's name could've predicted, he launched into a discussion of tactics for the upcoming game.

Talk about an effective alarm clock. The team woke one by one, with the exception of Fred, who - as usual, when listening to Oliver's early morning speeches - drifted off into an even deeper sleep.

Once the sun had risen well above the treetops of the Forbidden Forest, Professor McGonagall entered the room and announced that we were to head back to our respective dorms and prepare for the day.

Before anyone had even made it back to their common rooms, it had become clear that the teachers had found no trace of Black. The Fat Lady, however, had been located in another painting, far from the scene of the crime. In her place, hung a portrait of Sir Cadogan, the only painting in the castle brave enough to take over as guard to Gryffindor Tower. I was grateful a replacement had been found, but I could not deny that while Sir Cadogan was probably the most courageous painting in the castle, he was also the most obnoxious: he changed the password several times a day (each being more ridiculous than the previous one) and frequently challenged students to duels. Needless to say, the majority of Gryffindor house had taken to disliking him, and many people found as many excuses as possible to avoid the portrait hole. Some students spent the entire day out, only coming back at curfew. I was one of those people, though not by choice. Oliver had bumped up Quidditch practice to every night leading up until the match, which meant that every moment I was not eating, sleeping, or in class, I was out on the pitch with the team.

Normally, I wouldn't have minded that we were spending so much time at Quidditch practice and so little time doing anything else. In fact, in most cases, that would be a dream scenario. That is, if this hadn't been the worst weather conditions we'd ever trained in. On Monday, it rained and the clouds were so dense, I could barely make out the Quaffle, not to mention, Madam Hooch had been assigned to oversee all of our training sessions for Harry's protection. Oliver didn't like that. On Tuesday, it rained again, but this time it was colder and there was a breeze in the air that was just strong enough to blow us off course. Oliver didn't like that. Wednesday brought more rain and more wind, but also fog, which just made us all the more miserable. Oliver didn't like that. Thursday, there was no wind, but there was a torrential downpour which turned into hail. Alicia didn't like that, and neither did Oliver.

"I c-c-can't feel my f-fingers," Alicia chattered as she flew alongside me towards Oliver at the goalposts.

"I know h-how you feel," I said. Angelina had only just passed me the Quaffle and my hands were so numb, I could barely tell that I was carrying it. "I swear, if I get hit by a Bludger, I'll break into bits." As we zoomed towards Oliver, Alicia swerved left and I swerved right with the Quaffle still in hand. I raised my arm, about to shoot for the right goalpost, when I shot the Quaffle to Angelina who came up the middle and scored in the left goalpost. Oliver flew down, the familiar simultaneously-proud-and-disappointed expression on his face. He tossed the Quaffle back towards Angelina who streaked down towards the opposite end of the field again.

Alicia flew back to my side as we followed Angelina. "D-d-don't worry. If George hits you w-with a B-b-bludger, I'll break _him_ into a million b-bits."

I smiled at her. "Thanks."

All of the sudden, hail shattered down on us from the skies. Alicia and I both instinctively covered our heads, when the Quaffle came zooming out of nowhere, right at us. Alicia made to catch it, but she missed and it plummeted downward.

I dived, straight towards the ground, but it was so dark and there was so much hail, that I couldn't see five feet in front of me, let alone the Quaffle dropping far below. I flew as fast as my Cleansweep Seven would carry me, but once the Quaffle came into view, it was already on the grass, getting hammered by the hail like the rest of us.

I grabbed it quickly and glanced up to see if Oliver had noticed, but I couldn't make out his figure through the hail. I couldn't even see anyone _near_ the goalposts. Then I heard the shouting.

"What the _hell_ was that, Spinnet?" It echoed throughout the stadium.

I zoomed upwards, and saw Oliver face to face with Alicia, who had tears streaming down her face.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't see it. And I couldn't feel it either, my hands -"

A vein pulsed in Oliver's temple. "I don't give a damn what's wrong with your hands, you acted like you never touched a Quaffle out there! How did you miss that, how did you-?" Words failed him as he entered a silent rage. But words didn't fail me.

"Because she's half dead in this god damn hail, Wood! It's _hailing_. See these little balls of ice?" I could feel my temper reaching its boiling point, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. "Yeah, maybe if you had one little shred of compassion in that thick head of yours, you'd cancel practice like any sane person would, but no! You'd rather keep us all out here to suffer, just because you think that training us to the death will win you one little Quidditch match."

Oliver clenched his eyes shut. "Shut up, Bell," he growled.

"No! Not until you show some kind of sympathy. Think about how much we've done for you, how much we put up with! And Alicia here misses one - _one_ - fucking pass-"

Oliver's eyes flared open and he glared at me. "Bell, shut up," he repeated.

I opened my mouth to rebuke him, but Alicia cried, "Katie, no."

Fred, George, and Angelina flew over then, closely followed by Harry who was closely followed by Madam Hooch.

Angelina came over and put an arm around Alicia. George flew in between us all. "Calm down, Oliver. It's no one's fault the weather is bad."

Oliver glared at me over George's shoulder but said nothing more.

"Is there a problem here?" Madam Hooch asked.

Without a word, Oliver flew back towards the goalposts.

"No, we're fine," George answered her and everyone flew their separate ways. He stayed behind. "Katie, if you don't watch your temper, you could end up doing something really stupid."

"Are you kidding me? He's the stupid one. Why does he have to take everything out on us? Doesn't he realize we have no power over the elements?"

"No, he doesn't. And you know that. All he can think about is winning, and he's going to do whatever it takes to get there. You know that more than anyone."

I slumped my shoulders. I could sense defeat. "I know, but I just can't stand it. I love Quidditch, too, and I want to win just as bad, but he crossed the line."

"Tell you what. If a Bludger comes his way tonight, I'll do my best to do nothing about it. Just keep under control, okay?"

I sighed and expelled what little body heat I had left. "I'll try."

"Good," he said and he flew off in the distance.

And I did try to mind my temper: I didn't talk to Oliver the rest of the night. Or the next day, which was probably a good thing due to the bad news he shared with us at the start of practice.

"We're not playing Slytherin!" he announced, his face livid. "Flint's just been to see me. We're playing Hufflepuff instead."

There was a chorus of, "Why?"

"Flint's excuse is that their Seeker's arm's still injured. But it's obvious why they're doing it. Don't want to play in this weather. Think it'll damage their chances.…" Oliver glared at all of us as he said this, like it was our fault the Slytherins were wimps.

"There's _nothing_ wrong with Malfoy's arm!" Harry erupted. "He's faking it!"

Oliver glared at him, too, but Harry did not back down. "I know that, but we can't prove it. And we've been practicing all those moves assuming we're playing Slytherin, and instead it's Hufflepuff and their style's quite different. They've got a new Captain and Seeker, Cedric Diggory-"

Angelina and Alicia giggled. I giggled at the looks on the twins' faces.

"What?" Oliver asked disappointedly.

"He's that tall, good-looking one, isn't he?" asked Angelina.

I couldn't disagree with her. "Strong and silent." Even though I would _never_ be interested in him, I couldn't deny that there was something about Cedric Diggory. My eyes wandered the room in idle thought and a second passed before I realized they had connected with Oliver's.

Fred was the first to object. "He's only silent because he's too thick to string two words together. I don't know why you're worried, Oliver, Hufflepuff is a pushover. Last time we played them, Harry caught the Snitch in about five minutes, remember?"

This didn't comfort him, of course. "We were playing in completely different conditions! Diggory's put a very strong side together! He's an excellent Seeker! I was afraid you'd take it like this! We mustn't relax! We must keep our focus! Slytherin is trying to wrong-foot us! We _must_ win!" His chest was heaving with great, labored breaths.

Fred looked taken-aback. "Oliver, calm down! We're taking Hufflepuff very seriously. _Seriously_."

Oliver's demented expression didn't change.

The sharp crack of thunder and pounding rain woke me up the next morning. The sky was so black it could've been only eleven in the evening, that is, if my alarm clock hadn't proven otherwise. My every instinct told me to stay in bed - I just couldn't bring myself to play in this horrid weather again - but as I looked around and noticed that Angelina and Alicia had already left, I forced myself to get up.

I was the last to breakfast, and as usual, Oliver was scrambling around, filling our plates with food while ignoring his own, talking a mile a minute.

I sat down next to George, who greeted me dejectedly and said, "I can't believe we have to play in this-" he looked out the window "-again."

"Tell me about it," I said with a yawn.

Oliver came sweeping over then to pile eggs on my plate. Without looking at me, he commanded, "Eat, Bell," then he headed towards Angelina before he finally sat down across from me.

"It's going to be a tough one," he warned, completely overlooking his empty plate.

Ironically enough, it was Alicia who answered. "Stop worrying, Oliver, we don't mind a bit of rain."

As much as I didn't want to look to him, let alone acknowledge his existence, I couldn't help but notice the deep circles under Oliver's eyes. His sleepless night was obvious on his face. Part of me felt a vindictive joy at his suffering (it was about time), but another part of me was worried about him, and I wasn't sure how I felt about that. Either way, I was still too infuriated to say anything, and the rotten weather only made it worse.

We prolonged heading out into the storm as long as possible, but when there was only twenty minutes left before the match, time forced us to leave. Oliver got up first and left in silence. I looked across the table at Angelina.

She smiled half-heartedly. "We've got to get out there at some point."

I nodded and the rest of us left for the locker rooms.

We dressed in silence, the winds and rain pounding angrily against the walls. When we were all fully clothed, we sat and waited for Oliver, who was taking an abnormally long time to get changed. Once he finally made his way in front of us, he opened him mouth to begin his prematch pep-talk, but no sound came out. He screwed up his face and tried again, but once more, sound evaded him. After several more tries, he just gave up completely, nodded somewhat glumly, and walked out the door.

The weather was so torrential when we walked out that I couldn't tell if it was the crowd that was howling or the wind. The rain attacked us at every angle, and while I was grateful it wasn't hail, I couldn't help feeling this game was a lost cause.

Madam Hooch beckoned towards the Captains and Oliver stumbled as he walked up to Diggory to shake his hand. Cedric smiled warmly…well, as warmly as one could smile in _that_ weather. Oliver looked like he would never smile again.

Because the rain and wind were so loud, I hadn't heard Madam Hooch direct us to mount our brooms, so I was caught off guard when she blew the whistle signaling the start of the match.

Everyone was soaked to the bone in less than five minutes. It was a miracle that any of us were even able to hold on to the Quaffle, never mind actually passing it to the correct players. Several times, I made a pass and was only sure at the last second that it was actually a teammate and not an opponent. I thanked Merlin that Alicia, Angelina, and I worked so well together; I was convinced it was some sort of sixth sense we'd developed after all this time. We simply sensed when the others were near. Then again, maybe I was just really cold and not thinking straight.

After what seemed like hours, but in reality had probably only been about fifteen minutes, we had scored seven times. Hufflepuff had only scored twice. I had just gotten the Quaffle from Alicia and was zooming toward the Hufflepuff goalposts when lightning flashed and the whistle blew. I headed for the ground and splashed down in the mud with everyone else.

"I called for a time-out," Oliver announced, his hair plastered to his head. "Come on, under here-"

We huddled close under a big umbrella towards the end of the field.

"What's the score?" Harry asked as he quickly wiped his glasses dry (or rather wiped them even wetter) on his robes.

Oliver's eyes roamed the ever-darkening sky. "We're fifty points up, but unless we get the Snitch soon, we'll be playing into the night."

Harry continued to furiously wipe his glasses, all to no avail. "I've got no chance with these on."

Oliver looked around frantically, like he was expecting an answer to materialize out of thin air, and materialize it did. Hermione Granger came bustling onto the field, a big smile on her face.

I couldn't hear what she said as Harry handed her his glasses, but I watched in awe as she flicked her wand and handed them back to him. The rain quieted for a moment, and I was just able to make out the words, "repel water."

YES! Harry would be able to see now. We could still win this! All we had to was wait for him to catch it and keep Hufflepuff preoccupied until he did.

As Hermione ran away, I looked at Oliver, who sure enough was beaming. He looked after her with such respect, such admiration, that my stomach twisted into knots and my anger reignited. I didn't altogether mind; rage made for a much more successful and interesting game of Quidditch.

"Brilliant!" Oliver called, his voice saturated with fresh determination. "Okay, team, let's go for it!"

We took off on our brooms once more and lightning began to flash more threateningly. I was streaking down the field, in pursuit of a Hufflepuff Chaser when I heard Oliver scream in agony, "Harry! Harry, behind you!" And I saw Harry take off at full speed, flat against his broom, but then I saw something else. As I looked down, it was with horror that I saw what had to be a hundred dementors making their way onto the field, gazing up at the sky. As cold as it was, the temperature seemed to drop about ten degrees, so much so, that it felt like my insides had frozen over.

I stopped dead in midair, torn between watching the dementors and watching Harry who had just noticed them as well.

We were going to lose.

Oliver was going to hate me, if he didn't already.

We were going to lose and it was all my fault.

Oliver would be so mad he would leave me. He would finally be free to go after Sarah Fawcett. I could hear her laughter ringing in my ears as I sat paralyzed on my broom.

But all other thoughts left my mind and my heart skipped several beats when I saw Harry fall.

He was falling, plummeting from the sky, faster than the hammering rain itself; it was almost graceful. There was nothing any of us could do, because we were frozen, in every way possible. It was like the world had frozen over, except for Harry.

As much as I didn't want to watch, I couldn't look away. It took him ages to fall, and I kept waiting, waiting for when he would stop. My heart was in my throat, thumping furiously as he came inevitably closer and closer towards the ground - when he slowed and was gently lowered onto the icy grass of the pitch.

Dumbledore was on the field, heading briskly towards Harry. At his approach, the dementors retreated. I looked as hard as I could, but the sleeting rain still obscured my vision: all I could make out was something vast and silvery that seemed to be forcing the dementors to flee. The minute the dementors had left the pitch for good, professors and students bombarded the field, headed by Professor McGonagall. With the dementors gone, I was able to move again, and I flew as quickly as I could towards the mass of people, where Harry hovered unconscious in the center.

The rest of the team had already touched ground, along with Hufflepuff. Alicia was shaking; her wide eyes seemed incapable of closing. Angelina had a comforting arm around her, though she didn't seem to be in a much better state. Fred and George had pushed their way to the center of the crowd where I couldn't see their faces, though I was sure their expressions would be just as haunted as everyone else's. That left Oliver. I looked around, squinting through the sheets of rain, but he was nowhere to be seen in the mob. It was only when I looked towards the foot of the goalposts that I found him face to face with Cedric Diggory who had the Snitch grasped tightly in his hand.

"Please, would everyone kindly return to your houses," came Dumbledore's voice, magnified through the wind.

As the students moved aside to head for the school, I could just make out Dumbledore heading off in the direction the dementors had gone. McGonagall stayed where she was and conjured a stretcher which she carefully lowered Harry onto before levitating him up to the castle.

Fred and George broke away from the crowd and headed towards Oliver while Angelina, Alicia, and I broke into a run after McGonagall.

"Mud! Filth!" Madam Pomfrey yelped as we barged into the Hopsital Wing after McGonagall and the still-unconscious Harry.

McGonagall lowered Harry onto a bed as she spoke. "It's all right, Poppy, they're here with my permission."

Madam Pomfrey seemed none too pleased with the answer, but she didn't argue the matter. She bustled over towards Harry as the rest of us stood anxious by the door.

"I'll leave him here with you," Professor McGonagall said. She placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and then left the room as Fred and George entered.

Madam Pomfrey surveyed Harry a bit more. "Nothing to do but wait until he comes to, I'm afraid. Now, just because you have permission to be here doesn't mean you're allowed to do whatever you want. This is an infirmary and Mr. Potter needs his rest." We all nodded, our faces still drained of color and our robes still sticking to our skin, then we squelched our way over to Harry's bed and gathered around him.

Next to me, Alicia was still shaking, but this time it was George who had his arm around her, though Angelina stayed dutifully by her side. Fred was on the other side of the bed, slumped in a chair, next to his brother Ron and an ashen-faced Hermione Granger.

"Lucky the ground was so soft," George said quietly.

I nodded. "I thought he was dead for sure."

"But he didn't even break his glasses," Angelina added.

"That was the scariest thing I've ever seen in my life," Alicia whispered. I saw George's arm tighten around her shoulders.

"Harry!" exclaimed Fred, for Harry had opened his eyes. "How're you feeling?"

Harry sat up so suddenly, so violently, that we all gasped. "What happened?"

Fred swallowed before answering him. "You fell off. Must've been - what - fifty feet?"

"We thought you'd died," Alicia whimpered through her tremors. Hermione Granger gave a small squeal.

Harry made to shake his head, but stopped. "But the match. What happened? Are we doing a replay?"

No one could find the courage to answer him. Some Gryffindors we were.

"We didn't - _lose_?"

George sighed. "Diggory got the Snitch. Just after you fell. He didn't realize what had happened. When he looked back and saw you on the ground, he tried to call it off. Wanted a rematch. But they won fair and square…even Wood admits it."

"Where is Wood?" asked Harry. It was only then that I realized he wasn't huddled around Harry's bed like the rest of us.

It was Fred who spoke. "Still in the showers. We think he's trying to drown himself."

Oh, dear Merlin. That boy was mental. I could picture him now, sulking around in the locker room, drowning in (if anything) self pity. It was only one godforsaken loss. Yes, we'd hurt our chances in the championship, but we weren't out yet. Harry's mind seemed to be on the same track as Oliver's; his head was in his hands.

"C'mon, Harry, you've never missed the Snitch before," Fred said as he gripped Harry's shoulder and shook it lightly.

George nodded. "There had to be one time you didn't get it."

Fred nodded, too. "It's not over yet. We lost by a hundred points, right? So if Hufflepuff loses to Ravenclaw and we beat Ravenclaw and Slytherin…"

About ten minutes later, Madam Pomfrey resurfaced from her office and shooed us away.

"We'll come and see you later," Fred said as we came to the door. "Don't beat yourself up, Harry, you're still the best Seeker we've ever had." Harry gave no sign that he agreed.

I had only taken one step outside the door when George pulled me aside from the others who kept walking.

"You need to talk to Oliver."

"What? Why me?"

"Because he won't listen to anyone else. He's really beaten up. Fred and I tried to talk some sense into him - or at least get him inside - but he just ignored us and headed for the showers."

"So what? Why should I care?"

A crease appeared between George's brows. "Because you love him."

"But I don't like him right now. That idiot deserves comeuppance after the way he's been treating all of us."

The crease between George's eyebrows deepened. "Katie, I'm worried about him. And you should be, too. You've both been immature and it's time you start acting your age-"

Oh, _I _was the immature one, was I? "Are you serious? But he-"

"He needs you. Just, please, go find him and at least get him inside. After that, you can go back to hating him all you want." And with that, George turned and walked away, leaving me alone in the corridor by the Hospital Wing.

All I had to do was get him inside. I looked out the window; the rain was still falling in obscene amounts. The thought of leaving him out there to freeze in the rain was almost enjoyable, but alas, I headed back out into the gale.

When I finally made it to the locker rooms, I was just as drenched - if not more so - as I had been during the match. Another trail of mud stalked my feet as I took the first few steps into the freezing room, my breath materializing in little clouds before me. I could hear water running somewhere, or maybe it was just the rain. My teeth began chattering and I pulled my soaked robes tighter around me as I trudged toward the showers.

"O-Oliver?" I stuttered.

No answer.

I rounded the corner and saw a large streak of mud that lead straight into one of the cubicles. There was no other evidence.

"Oliver?" I tried again, but there was still no answer. I began walking faster, careful not to slip in the mud, and came to a halt right outside the curtain. That was definitely the sound of running water.

My heart pounded against my chest; it didn't want to know what I would find on the other side, so I stayed where I was and repeated, "Oliver?"

A few painful heartbeats later, came a dead voice that said, "We lost."

Relief flooded through me with more power than the rain outside. "Yeah, we did. Now suck it up and come inside."

"I lost."

Even though he couldn't see me, I rolled my eyes. "It happens, now come on. Everyone's worrying about you."

"Let them."

I groaned. "You're being ridiculous, Oliver. It's just one game."

"No, it's not."

"What do you mean, 'It's not?' Of course, it is. We'll win the next one-"

"No, we wont!" he yelled so suddenly that I jumped. "It's over! I let the team down! I let Gryffindor down! I let _everyone_ down! Don't you get it? This isn't about just one game, this is about my _life_."

"Frankly, Oliver, you don't have a life."

"Exactly! I've given up everything! Quidditch is all I've ever wanted to do, all I've ever planned on doing. I'll never make it, Katie. No one wants a loser on their team." His words bounced off the icy walls.

"You're not a loser, Oliver."

He didn't respond.

"Oliver, this wasn't your fault. There was nothing you could've done about the weather or those dementors. That's just life. Sometimes, you're going to have to deal with things that are out of your control. Just because you don't get your way doesn't mean you should run off and try to drown yourself! Imagine what _that_ would have done to the team - to Gryffindor - to everyone. You're a bloody extraordinary Keeper and the best damn Captain Gryffindor has ever had and we couldn't have come this far without you. _I _couldn't have come this far without you."

There was a pause before he spoke. "You remember when you first tried out for the team?"

I slid down against the wall and sat on the wet floor. "Yeah. You yelled at me for throwing too hard."

"No, I yelled at you for hitting me in the head."

"Hey, I can't help it if I have naturally good aim."

Softly, almost inaudible due to the rain, I heard him chuckle. "You always were the strong one."

"No, I'm just the one who's capable of knocking sense into you." We both laughed.

"I remember you were just this little ball of energy. Too high strung to keep quiet, but too nervous to talk to anyone. You pretty much just sat there, shaking."

"Geez, you're making it sound like I died. Although, I almost did die of fright that day. When you finally called my name, I thought I was going to vomit."

"Well, I'm glad you didn't. I have a queasy stomach, you know."

I never would have guessed. "Really? The almighty and powerful Oliver Wood? And here you were making fun of me last year for being squeamish about Harry's arm."

"Maybe it was a defense mechanism."

"Anyways, you called my name - "

"And you wanted to throw up."

"-And I was so scared I was going to fall off my broom. But then you handed me the Quaffle and said, 'Calm down. You'll be fine. Stop thinking about it and let your heart do the playing.'"

"I said _that_? Merlin, I was cheesy."

"Oliver, that's not the point. What I'm trying to say is, stop thinking so much about it and just let your heart do the playing. You love Quidditch and you shouldn't let anything ruin that for you. Yes, we lost one game, but we're going to win the next one. And we're going to win the Cup and you're going to go down in history as the best Captain Hogwarts has ever seen. We're going to win it, Oliver, we're going to win."

The shower curtain screeched as it was wrenched back. Oliver's arms tugged me up and pulled me inside and before I could complain about the frigid water that was falling from the shower head, he crushed his lips against mine.

Our robes clung to our skin as our bodies pressed tightly against one another. I could feel every inch of him as he tangled his hands in my hair. The kiss was desperate, like we'd been holding it in for years. My arms wrapped around his neck and his hands travelled down my back, leaving a trail of fire in their wake that seemed to engulf every part of me. All I could do was deepen the kiss as his hands came to my bum; he lifted me up and pressed me against the wall. I wrapped my legs around him to stop from falling and one of his hands went back to my hair while the other splayed across my back.

As uncomfortable as it was, I didn't want to move from this spot for the rest of my life. Sirius Black could've have broken into the castle and murdered everyone, and I would neither have noticed nor cared. All that mattered was Oliver and the way he was kissing me right now. Like he couldn't get enough of me. I knew damn well I couldn't get enough of him.

We snogged until we were too out of breath to continue. He sunk to the floor with me in his lap, both our chests heaving. The water from the shower continued to painfully pelt down on us.

"I'm glad you came down here," Oliver said breathlessly.

"Me, too," I panted.

"Nothing but _that_ could probably have gotten me out of here."

And then I thought of George. "Come on, follow me back to the castle because there's more where _that_ came from."

I stood up gingerly, stumbling a little as I helped him to his feet. His eyes were slightly glazed over as he said, "I'll follow you anywhere."

"Well, keep that in mind, because you're about to follow me into a hurricane."

He wrapped his arms around me completely, which made it awkward to walk. "Somehow, I don't think I'll mind."

**Review and maybe I'll update sooner :)**


	7. Evenly Matched

**Well. Is anyone still interested in reading this? I know it's been a while (and by that, I mean half a year), but here's the next chapter! There's not necessarily a good reason for me not updating, and there's also not one particular reason why, but I will give you a short summary on what I've been doing since January! I saw Starship live. I went to the Wizarding World. I fell back in love with Sailor Moon, which took up the most time since I rewatched 160 NA dub episodes, roughly 40 for Sailor Stars, and then I rewatched all 200 in Japanese, and then I reread the manga twice, did a shit ton of fan art and also read a shit ton of fan fiction, and lastly watched PGSM for the first time. Needles to say, I have quite a few ideas for SM fan fiction floating around in my head, which is sure to be my next project, however, I will write nothing more until I finish this story. Back to my busy life: I finished my sophomore year of college, came home and went back to work and then last week I went to the NYC premiere of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2. Then, of course, the movie came out. No need to explain how I feel about that. However, like I said, I know none of that is an excuse, so I'm sorry for the wait. Especially to you, kraney, since I promised you COUNTLESS times that I was well on my way to posting this chapter.**

**Thank you Katamabob, L, Crazy-Obsessed-Writer52, kraney, feelgoodlost, XritaskeeterhatersX, Princess-Amon-Rae, and midnightstar96 for reviewing. Your reviews are what encouraged me to finally write this chapter. I hope you're not disappointed with it :)**

**CHAPTER 7 - EVENLY MATCHED**

As the day went on, Oliver's mood brightened, though the pain of defeat was still evident on his face. It wasn't until Sunday morning that he had gathered the courage to visit Harry, and even then, it was only because I dragged him inside the Hospital Wing doors. Again, Fred and George had snuck in some sweets and butterbeer, and we all clustered around Harry's bed. The poor boy looked close to tears from happiness, and I didn't blame him; being in the constant company of Madam Pomfrey wasn't exactly enjoyable. I'd learned that lesson the previous year.

Oliver had tried his best to sit as far from Harry as common courtesy allowed, but I wasn't having that-I grabbed him by the elbow and made him sit right at Harry's head before I cleared my throat and looked at him pointedly. Oliver turned to his seeker but stared at the floor like his Quidditch career depended on it.

Before he could manage a word, however, Harry spoke. "Wood, I'm so sorry. I cost us-you the match. If only I hadn't-"

Oliver shook his head, eyes still aimed at the floor. "S'not your fault," he replied in an empty voice. "Happens. I don't blame you."

"Yeah, but still, I could have-the match-"

My elbow was inches from elbowing Oliver in the side when he finally looked Harry straight in the eyes.

"No, Harry. Hufflepuff won-fair and square-not because of something that happened to you out of your control." And then the unthinkable happened: Oliver smiled. "Besides, if I know anything about Quidditch, and I'd like to think I do, I know Ravenclaw will _flatten_ them at the next match. Just because we lost one game doesn't mean our chances have been ruined." At that, Oliver took Harry's hand in his own and gripped it tightly as the manic gleam in his eyes flared back to life.

His guilty conscience finally sated, Harry turned to other matters that plagued him. "Are you sure you're okay, Wood?"

Oliver's smile didn't falter. In fact, I hadn't seen him smile that big since I led him up from the locker rooms the previous night and we…well, you get the picture. "Of course. I've got to be okay. We have practice at six a.m. tomorrow."

The entire team groaned.

With the promise of Quiddtich practice, Oliver stayed relatively happy, though it couldn't be denied that the loss had hit him hard. Most days would find Oliver brooding in the corner of the Gryffindor common room, grief etched deep in the lines of his face. If I hadn't known any better, I would have thought someone had died. But then again, to Oliver, a losing a Quidditch match was almost like losing a lover (the man was a lunatic), so maybe my initial interpretation of his sorrow hadn't been too far off the mark. So, since Oliver seemed to be in mourning, I took it upon myself to cheer him up.

On Wednesday afternoon, we both had a break at the same time, and I found Oliver huddled up by a window in the common room, prodding some Quidditch figures with his wand without any real thought. Caution be damned, I bounded over to him, wriggled into his lap, and kissed him on the nose.

"Hi," I said with the biggest smile I could muster.

He didn't answer and his returning smile wasn't necessarily a sad one, but there was still something off. That simply would not do.

"I said _hello_. Are you not even going to grace me with a reply?" I wrapped my arms around his neck and blinked up at him, my lower lip trembling in all its glory.

I saw the tiniest bit of authenticity creep into his smile. He stayed silent as the smile grew into the ghost of a smirk.

"Hmm…" I mused aloud as I innocently tapped my forefinger on my lips-innocently being the key word, of course. I locked eyes with him and put on my best Quidditch face. "Then I'll guess I'll just have to force it out of you."

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, I brought my hands around to his front and dragged them down his chest as I closed the gap between our faces. His eyes grew as wide as saucers and when he gulped, as close as I was, I felt it rather than heard it. Our lips were a mere centimeter away when I felt his legs twitch under my weight, but Oliver paid no mind. His eyes were one hundred percent concentrated on my mouth.

As mesmerized as he was, you'd think he'd have backed away when my tongue popped out and licked the length of his face, but he didn't.

"EUGHHHH!" Oliver protested as he scrambled away from me, doing his best to put distance between us. Oh, I wasn't having _that_ either. Calling upon the strength I'd gained from countless grueling Quidditch practices (all of which, of course, at his request-I was the innocent one here), I held on to him with all my might.

"You-you licked me!"

I blinked back at him owlishly, though I couldn't quite keep the satisfied smirk off my face. "Yeah, so?"

"You said-I thought you meant-when you said 'force-'"

I clucked my tongue at him condescendingly. "Tsk tsk, Oliver, dear. Since when has the word "force" had any positive connotations?" Just like the smirk, I couldn't stop the wicked gleam from forming in my eyes either. "Whatever were you expecting from innocent, little me?"

Giving up in his attempts to separate himself from me, Oliver began to wipe at his face. "Well, certainly not _that_. I can't believe you licked me!"

"Merlin, can't you two keep your paws off each other?" Fred sighed as he came up behind Oliver's chair.

George, of course, was not far behind. "Oh, Fred, can't you see? They're in _love_. Swapping spit in public is part of the package."

Oliver's cheeks reddened but nonetheless, he piped up, "Excuse me, but I didn't swap any spit. This," he gestured to his face, "is all hers."

Fred grinned cheekily at him. "Ah, but you enjoyed every minute of her slobbering, did you not, dear Captain?"

One hand shot out with the intention of throttling Fred, but the redhead easily danced out of reach and began chanting, "Oh, Captain! Dear Captain!" Soon enough, George joined in and together, the twins started doing a little dance.

"OY!"

"Guess what!"

Despite their not-so-subtle entrance, it took several tries before the twins noticed Angelina and Alicia running towards our little group.

"Ah, Angelina, love! Care to exchange some saliva? I've picked up a few pointers from Oliver, here," Fred wriggled his eyebrows, "and I think I would make a positively _dashing_ 'Captain' for you."

Surprisingly, only Oliver tried to hit Fred. Angelina hadn't even appeared to have heard him. It was only then that I registered the excited look on her face.

"Guess who's playing chaser for Ravenclaw next match!"

I would have bet all the galleons in Gringotts on her next words.

"Sarah Fawcett!"

Yep, Gringotts would have been out of business.

"What? How?" the twins mused.

Alicia was quick to answer-this was her forte. "You know that big oaf of a chaser, Bradley? Well, he was bad-talking the Hufflepuff team the other day in Herbology and of course Sprout heard. She reprimanded him but the thickhead just mouthed off to her. You know how Hufflepuffs are, all loyal and whatnot, so Sprout didn't hold back when it came to punishing him. She gave him detention specifically on the day of the match in the hopes that it will 'teach him a lesson.' So Ravenclaw brought in Sarah as a reserve."

"Can you believe it?" Angelina gushed. "She's a _fabulous_ chaser. Ravenclaw will win for sure! Isn't that great, Oliver?"

At the mention of his name, I felt Oliver tense up underneath me.

"Yeah…great…" His eyes were unfocused.

"Well, we just wanted to let you know. We're off to go congratulate her. See you at dinner!" Alicia sang as he skipped back to the portrait hole, Angelina tagging along behind her.

Oh, Merlin, no. Just when I thought it was all over, Fawcett had creeped back into my life. But it was okay if it could help us get back in the running for the Cup, right? _Right?_

I hadn't noticed how hard I'd been gripping Oliver's shirt until he succeeded in prying my fingers loose.

"Hey, Fred, how about we go join the girls in congratulating Sarah?" George said, too quick to be normal pace.

"Excellent idea, George. We can't have them taking all the credit." Without a second glance at us, the twins followed the girls' path to the portrait hole.

"Oliver?"

He seemed to be looking straight through me.

"Oliver, what's wrong? Why do you care-?"

"Katie, we could win this thing," he whispered, hardly daring to believe it. "Fawcett's good. Ravenclaw will win. And then we'll be back in the game. We could win. The cup could-will be ours. _Mine_."

When his eyes finally focused back on mine, something had changed. Gone was the grief brought on by the loss to Hufflepuff; all that remained was unmitigated hope.

I couldn't bring myself to ruin his fresh determination now that it had finally been revived, so I choked back my questions and accusations about Sarah Fawcett. Instead, I leaned forward, kissed him on the nose for real, and quipped, "You still haven't said 'hi' to me."

After lunch, the fifth year Gryffindors had double Herbology with Ravenclaw-something I was dreading. Not only would I have to be in the same room as Sarah Fawcett, but I also would have to withstand an hour and a half with Eddie Carmichael. You'd think my slap from earlier in the year had discouraged him but the prat had approached me every day this week. And today was no different.

"Hey, Bell. Want to be partners?" he said greasily as he sidled up next to me.

"I'd rather be partners with the giant squid."

Doing my best to casually brush him off, I looked around for Alicia, Angelina, and the twins, only to find them already paired off. Then I looked around for someone else, anyone else, only to find everyone else had paired off as well.

"Miss Bell," Professor Sprout called from the front of the greenhouse, her face tinged with impatience. "If you'd kindly go with Mr. Carmichael. I'd like to begin my lesson, and I don't appreciate the delay."

"Yes, Professor Sprout," I groaned. She narrowed her eyes disapprovingly at my tone but began her lesson without complaint.

"So, how do you feel about Fawcett playing on Saturday?" Carmichael muttered in my ear as we began our first attempt to repot our Fanged Geranium. I flinched at his proximity and his words.

"I don't care," I replied, still facing away from him.

"Oh, come off it, Bell. You think I don't see the way Wood acts at the mere mention of her name? You care."

My eyes flashed dangerously to his. "So what if I do care? It's none of your business."

He shrugged noncommittally. "Maybe it isn't. But I'm not just going to stand around and watch Wood treat you the way he does."

"And what's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"It means you deserve someone better. Someone who would put you ahead of Quidditch."

A sudden pain engulfed my right hand and I looked down to find my palm between the unforgiving jaws of the plant.

"He loves me," I growled as I wrestled my hand loose.

Carmichael opened his mouth to rebut, but closed it and shook his head as if he were attempting to dislodge the unwanted thoughts right out of his brain. A few minutes passed in silence as we tried yet again to wrap our hands successfully around the Fanged Geranium. It was only when I had finally managed to get a firm grip on the plant that I felt Carmichael staring at me.

"What?" I asked, decidedly keeping my eyes on my task before me.

"Look, Bell…Katie. I just…I don't want you-I don't want to see you get hurt."

There was no biting tone behind the words, no air of presumption. My eyes drifted to his of their own accord and I couldn't do more than stare.

He swallowed hard and so did I.

Then I felt another sharp pain in my hand as the plant bit down again.

"I can take care of myself," I muttered as I once more pulled my fingers free.

"I know."

My eyes shot up to meet his again, but I immediately regretted the action and looked hastily around the room only to lock eyes with George whose eyebrows were raised inquiringly.

"On my whistle. Three…two…one!" And fourteen blurs of yellow and blue took towards the sky.

The weather was blustery, the wind unyielding, but that didn't stop Roger Davies from catching the Quaffle with ease. He soared through his yellow-clad opponents and faster than one could have said "Snape smells," scored the first goal for Ravenclaw.

I never thought I'd see the day when Oliver Wood would cheer for Roger Davies, but alas, there he was next to me, fanatically pumping his fists in the air and shouting himself hoarse.

The Quaffle was turned over to the Hufflepuff where Cadwallader caught it and began zooming towards the Ravenclaw goalposts. His path blocked by the Ravenclaw beaters, McDougal and Podge, Cadwallader made to pass the Quaffle to Stebbins but the pass was intercepted by none other than Sarah Fawcett. She took off in the other direction, heading straight for the goalposts of Hufflepuff and a second later-

"Another ten points to Ravenclaw!" the voice of Lee Jordan boomed around the pitch.

I turned to Oliver, ready to cheer with him, but his wide eyes were locked on the flying form of Sarah Fawcett who was gracefully streaking after Hufflepuff chaser in possession, Hopkins.

"Hey, Oliver!" I cried, desperate to steal his attention from Fawcett. "Oliver, Ravenclaw is winning! Hufflepuff hasn't even scored and Hopkins is a dreadful chaser!" He ignored me still and I began tugging at his robes. "Oliver!"

"I'm trying to pay attention here!" The words snapped me like a whip. He didn't even look at me. I resigned myself to watching the game and took up cheering for Ravenclaw again. If Oliver was going to be a jerk, I wasn't going to let it ruin my day-not when our chances of getting back into the race for the Quidditch Cup were so high and only growing by the second.

Ravenclaw scored once more, but then McDougal hit the Hufflepuff beater, Megan Jones, in the face with his beaters' bat. Hufflepuff was awarded a foul; Cadwallader scored effortlessly. And after that, the teams were evenly matched. Hufflepuff scored four more times and Ravenclaw scored another two, one of which was due to spectacular (there was no way to deny it) flying by Fawcett. I shouldn't have been surprised that she was perfect at flying since she was perfect at everything else, too. I guess I'd just gotten my hopes up thinking she had _some_ kind of fault.

Against my better judgement, I glanced over at Oliver, just to find him gaping at her. I hit him in the shoulder (and mind you, I have quite an arm).

"What was that for!" he yelled as he clamped his arm defensively around his side.

"Stop staring at her!"

"Staring at who?"

"Sarah Fawcett!"

Just then, the crowd went wild. Chambers had scored for Ravenclaw. The game was tied.

"Dammit, Katie! I missed it!" Oliver shouted as he turned back to the match.

I would have screamed at him-or at least hit him again-but I was at a loss.

"Calm down, Oliver!" George commanded from behind us. He smiled at me reassuringly but I couldn't smile back.

The chasers of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tossed the Quaffle back and forth as if it was a ticking bomb and before I could even register what had happened, both teams scored twice more.

"Close game," came a voice right next to my ear.

"What are you doing here, Carmichael?" I couldn't keep the accusatory tone out of my voice.

"Am I not allowed to cheer on my house team? I _am_ in Ravenclaw, you know." He puffed out his chest and placed his hand over his heart.

"Yeah, well, you should be in Slytherin, you arrogant moron."

Carmichael kept his hand over his heart but deflated with a mock look of hurt on his face. "Surely, you jest?"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, surely. Now go away. Think I'm jesting now?"

He shook his head. "Nope, but I'm going to stay here anyway. So how are things going with Wood?"

My mouth dropped open and I hurriedly peeked at Oliver. He hadn't heard him.

"I told you, that's none of your business!" I hissed as I turned back to face the impertinent Ravenclaw.

"Well, I'm making it my business."

I was just about to retaliate when the crowd broke out in another round of cheers. Ravenclaw had scored again. Stebbins took the Quaffle for Hufflepuff.

"Hufflepuff is going to lose," Carmichael commented.

"How do you know?" I asked but kept my eyes on the game.

"Look at Stebbins. He's exhausted. Same with Cadwallader and Hopkins. Hufflepuff's strength is in their defense with Summerby and Jones. But even _they_ look tired. Same with Sipkowski, the keeper. Ravenclaw is really laying on them hard. They won't last much longer. And Bramble still looks like he could go on for hours down at the Ravenclaw end."

He was right, but he'd forgotten one crucial factor. "Doesn't matter," I said with a shake of my head. "The game is close enough that either team could win. It all depends on the seekers. And Diggory is exceptional."

Almost as if Merlin himself had heard me, Diggory caught sight of the Snitch and took off in a dive. Cho Chang charged after him, but her broom could not catch up.

"He is. But so is Chang. I bet you ten sickles she gets the Snitch."

I didn't want to bet against him, after all, I _wanted _Ravenclaw to win, but I just couldn't see how Chang could beat Diggory. He was more than a broom's length ahead. But I also couldn't resist a good challenge. "You're on."

As soon as I'd said the words, Chang was neck and neck with Diggory; however, Diggory was large for a seeker and his arm extended farther than Chang's. If it came down to who had the longer extension, he would win. The Snitch was still more than an arm's length away and both seekers had their hands outstretched, desperately reaching toward the diminutive golden ball. The crowd was silent.

And in that moment, Diggory glanced at Chang. She glanced back. And then her tiny fingers wrapped around the Golden Snitch.

"RAVENCLAW WINS!"

The whole of Gryffindor cheered just as loud as the house of the winning team. Alicia's and Angelina's screams were deafeningly high-pitched, but when I turned around to join them, I noticed the voices actually belonged to Fred and George. The girls were simply dumbfounded; big loopy smiles were plastered on both of their faces.

"THEY WON! KATIE, WE'RE BACK IN THE RUNNING! WE'RE IN! WE'RE IN!"

Before I had time to push him away or even answer him, Oliver took my face in his hands and pressed his lips to mine. By the time he was done, I forgot what everyone was even cheering about. Hell, maybe they were just cheering for that kiss.

"Katie, I can't believe it. We can still win the cup! We can win it! Ravenclaw won and now we'll beat them and then Slytherin and then the cup is ours!"

We were almost there. We _could_ win.

I was still mad at him for his behavior during the match and part of me still wanted to slug him for it, but in that instant, I didn't care. "I know, Oliver. We're going to win." I clasped his face between my hands and kissed him back. Then he took me by the hand as the entire population of Hogwarts began making its way back towards the castle. I looked over my shoulder at Carmichael whose face was not much unlike George's had been earlier that week in Herbology. A face of someone that knew too much. Much more than he was letting on.

"You owe me ten sickles, Bell!" he called across the mass that had come between us.

I nodded once and turned away.

**And there you have it. It may seem like not much happened, but you'd be wrong. If you still don't agree with me on that front, then just you wait until the next chapter. It's going to be a big one. I don't know when it's going to come out but I promise you, I will never give up on this story. I've thought about it every day since my last post in January and I'm not the kind to abandon a story, especially when I've already invested this much time and effort into it (I spent HOURS researching and hunting down names from HP canon that would line up properly and work for the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw Quidditch teams). Lastly, if you just can't wait another six months for me to post the next chapter, then review and I'll get around to it much sooner! Go ahead and make me a happy author and I'll make you a happy reader! Thanks for reading!**


	8. Contrast

**What? An update? What is life? What is this magic? Yeah, I'm updating. I've been working on this one for quite some time (as in the events of this chapter have been marinating in my mind for MONTHS) but school has been crazy and I've been unable to write. Since I'm an English major, most of my time is devoted to devouring required reading. Usually it's 2 entire books a week, never mind all my other classes and their subsequent homework. And marching band, which takes up 3 hours a day and entire Saturdays. Yeah, college band consumes you.**

**I've also fallen in love with some other series: Ouran High School Host Club and Fullmetal Alchemist! In fact, I'm dressing up as Edward Elric for a Halloween party tonight. Any Ouran or FMA fans out there? Because if so, I love you. Then again, I love all my readers! Especially those that review like kraney (I miss you!), Princess-Amon-Rae, BeckyC.1, Brook-Lucas-Fan-23, Crazy-Obsessed-Writer52, Shanii21, zeezeebug101, beatofthedrum, SwayingRose, Natz29, sparkle, and Oh Hi :)**

**So, sorry for the wait, but here you go!**

**CHAPTER 8 - CONTRAST**

The Great Hall was relatively empty, due in part to the early hour, but mostly because of how late everyone had stayed up celebrating the night before. After all, Ravenclaw's win meant a victory for half of the houses. Out of our usual group, only George, Angelina, and I (the natural early risers) were up. Due to his steadily increasing fervor, Oliver had demanded practice immediately after the match had ended and had worked us so relentlessly that even _he_ couldn't bring himself to get out of bed this morning. For once, breakfast seemed like it would be a nice, calming experience.

"So where is my money?" Eddie Carmichael crooned as he plopped down next to me. So much for calm.

"Sod off, Carmichael," I said, eyes trained on my pumpkin juice.

"I do have a first name, you know."

"Yeah, and I have a fist. Would you like me to introduce it to your face?"

To my surprise, it was George who retaliated. "Woah, Katie. What's with the hostility?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "This guy's a prick."

George rolled his right back. "Well, good to know you support house unity."

"Excellent pass, Angeli-!" I heard Oliver yell from the goal posts, but he was interrupted by Alicia's complicated maneuver to avoid the Bludger Fred had just sent at her. "Spectacular, Spinnet!"

Finally out of harm's way, Alicia caught the Quaffle and almost immediately, went to pass it to me.

As George zoomed towards me to block Alicia's oncoming pass, I knew my moment to shine was coming, and I wasn't going to disappoint Oliver. I flattened myself against my broom, willing it to go faster, as I ducked out of the way of George's bat and the Bludger he had just hit. I didn't even have to see the Quaffle leave Alicia's hands to know it was coming towards me, or at least a few feet ahead of me. We always threw just a little bit ahead of each other in order to keep the other team on their toes; we trusted each other enough to know any of us would always be at the other end of a pass. Having been on a team so long together, George understood our tactics and swerved to follow me to block Alicia's pass. In the split second that we raced to reach the Quaffle, his broom out-sped mine. He veered in front of me, bat still at the ready, as he caught the Quaffle with one arm and passed it to Fred.

When the red ball was safely in his twin's arms, George turned his head and winked at me.

"Jerk," I huffed angrily at him. "I had that."

George's smirk widened. "Yeah, you did. But not anymore!"

"Jerk," I repeated.

"It's all part of the game, love," he sang as he soared back across the field. I followed in his wake, slightly bitter; I'd _had _that pass!

Before I could work my way back into the game, Oliver blew the whistle, signaling that it was time for a break. Which actually meant it was time to do laps around the field.

"Alright, everyone can take five. Get a drink, do some stretches, whatever you need to do. But if you're not back on your broom in exactly five minutes, you get five extra laps."

Fred and George booed in unison as they touched down and made their way towards the locker rooms. Harry followed in obedient silence. Angelina and Alicia took their time landing-why bother exerting themselves when they had more than a dozen laps ahead of them? I flew towards the ground after them when I was halted by Oliver calling my name.

"Katie, could you come over here for a second?" he called from the foot of the goal posts.

Ugh, here it was. I should have known he would have _something_ to say about my fumble. At least he had the decency to wait for the rest of the team to leave before insulting me. This time.

Figuring it might be better if I breached the subject first, I said, "Sorry about that failed pass up there. I know I shouldn't make excuses, but I just couldn't get there in time."

To my surprise, he waved a hand and said, "No big deal. That was actually a brilliant move, you know, before George got in the way. You did a great job."

I couldn't help the blush that rose to my cheeks, but I wasn't about to let Oliver know how much his opinion mattered to me. "I've been known to do that from time to time," I declared as I put my hands on my hips and my nose in the air.

"Hey, don't go getting cocky on me now, Bell. You still didn't make the pass." He rumpled my hair playfully and I batted his hand away. Instead of relenting, he took my hand in his and we walked towards the locker rooms together.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll make the next one."

"Too right you will. You just need to be a little faster. More laps should help, although it really is a mental thing. Although, sometimes speed just comes natural to people. Like Sarah Fawcett, for instance. She was like a bloody bird the way she flew today."

There was that name again. Couldn't I ever just have Oliver to myself? I ground my teeth in irritation, but otherwise betrayed no hint of annoyance.

"Maybe you could take some pointers from her! Her speed looked so effortless, whereas yours always seems somewhat forced. Why don't you try to be more like her?"

I tripped.

"Maybe you should just watch her more closely next time. I mean, it's exactly this kind of uncoordination that is going to mess you up. You'd think by now you'd be lighter on your feet, but I guess that's nothing a little more practice can't help. I mean, Sarah had to have been drilled by Davies, even with all of her talent."

"Did you just compare me to Sarah Fawcett?"

Oliver turned around-he'd continued several paces ahead and hadn't even noticed that I'd frozen where I had tripped over my feet.

"Well, no, I compared your abilities." He shrugged.

"Which means you compared us," I growled. "Me, your girlfriend. And that _bitch_."

"What's your problem?" Oliver snapped. "I'm only trying to help you as a captain since Merlin knows you could use the help. And you have no right to call Fawcett a bitch."

"I have the right to call her whatever the hell I want, and who are you to tell me otherwise?" I shouted. "I'm so sick of you ordering me around!"

"Bell, I order you around because I'm your captain! It's your _job_ to listen to me!"

I couldn't even look at him as I shouted towards the sky, "Would you _stop_ relating everything to Quidditch? This is about us. You and me! Not some fucking game."

"Oh, you think so?" Oliver retorted abrasively. "Because I remember not too long ago when you felt the same as me. Don't act like you don't love Quidditch."

"I've _never _felt the same as you! I love Quidditch, but I've _always_ valued you over it. And you never even cared. You only ever loved Quidditch and I thought I was okay with it, but _I'm not_!"

Suddenly, Angelina was there, holding me back by my arms. Oliver marched towards me and got right up in my face.

"Maybe you're right! And maybe I've always loved Quidditch more because it can't talk back to me or whine or beg for attention like you!" And then George was holding him by the shoulders.

"You know why I 'beg for you attention?' Because I never get any! Remember how much you said you loved me? It must have all been lies because all you care about is Quidditch and that goddamn Sarah Fawcett!"

"Katie," Angelina warned as I strained against her.

"What the hell does Fawcett have to do with anything! Why do you keep bringing her up?"

"BECAUSE YOU LOVE HER! I see the way you look at her, like you're in awe! I've always known! You don't give two shits about me, but when it comes to Sarah Fawcett, you'd probably even give up Quidditch!"

"WELL, THEN MAYBE I SHOULD DATE HER INSTEAD!"

"Oliver!" George yelled as he tightened his grip.

"I HATE HER!" I screamed. "I HATE HER AND I HATE YOU!"

Angelina's grip slackened from shock and I broke away, running towards the locker rooms."

Wood, what the _hell_ do you think you're doing?" I heard George bellow.

"SHE DESERVED IT!" Oliver yelled back. "She's an immature little brat who needs to start thinking of others!"

"SHE'S NOT THE ONLY ONE!"I ran faster than my feet could safely carry me. I didn't stop for Fred or Alicia when they questioned why I was crying and I didn't even stop to apologize to Harry when I plowed right into him. I couldn't stop. I couldn't run away from Oliver's words.

When I got to the door, I shouted the password, "Kennilworthy Whisp!" and I ran blindly inside before the door had even melted away completely.

Unfortunately, no room had reeked of Oliver Wood more than the Gryffindor locker room. I began hitting anything in sight: the walls, the benches, the play board, everything. Then I came to his locker.

"YOU-ARSE! I HATE-YOU!" I screamed with every blow as I punched his locker. In a matter of minutes, my fists were black and blue and ached like they'd just been attacked by a Bludger. Still yet, I kept punching. "I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU!"

"Why do you hate me?"

"Because you're a bastard," I wheezed. Then I looked up in Carmichael was standing above me, and it was only then that I had realized I had sunken to the floor and was only feebly hitting _his_ locker now. My sobs overpowered everything else.

"How did you get in here? Get out!" I yelled.

"I was out for a walk and I heard the screaming, so I came to see what was up. Then I saw you and Wood and watched you storm away, so I followed you. I heard you say the password."

"Get out!" I repeated.

"No. I'm not leaving you here alone. You'll hurt something or yourself. You've already killed that locker."

I glanced at the horrid thing filled with objects he cared about. The entire thing had caved in and it was covered in fist-sized dents and various scrapes.

"It deserved it," I rasped. My throat burned.

Eddie sat down on the floor next to me. "You don't."

"Get out."

"Not until you tell me what happened."

"I don't have to tell you anything."

He shrugged. "You're right, you don't. But you _deserve_ someone who will listen to you."

"You're right," I whispered and looked down at my lap. "I deserve better than him. I deserve better." I hadn't stopped crying yet, so it was through a cloud of tears that I looked at Eddie.

"You deserve better," he breathed.

Slowly, never breaking eye contact, he put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me in close.

"Don't ever let anyone make you feel like you're less than you are, Katie," Eddie spoke softly as he stroked my hair. "You're too amazing for that. You're intelligent, you're talented, you're beautiful, you're kind, and you're brave. You're one of a kind. Don't forget that."

"Thank you," I said.

We just sat there for several moments in silence, I in his lap and he caressing my back.

"Eddie?" I heard the rumble of his response deep in his chest. "I'm sorry for the way I've treated you in the past. _You _deserve better."

"S'okay. I can handle it. Besides," he mused as he cupped a hand under my chin and angled my face upwards, "I like the way you treat me. It keeps me on my toes. I never know what to expect from you next."

He looked me deep in the eyes, deeper than anyone else ever had. Even Oliver.

I leaned forward slightly and kissed him.

At that exact moment, a clatter echoed from the direction of the entrance.

Eddie and I broke apart only to see George standing in the doorway, his broom lying forgotten on the floor.

**And there you go. Thanks for reading!**


	9. Dead End

**And here it is, the long-awaited next installment. As usual, sorry for the wait. Got a boyfriend, finished another school year, got a new job as a waitress. It's been busy. This chapter isn't long but I wanted to put out something so it'll have to do for now; however, it **_**is **_**pretty pivotal to the story so I can assure you this chapter isn't a waste :)**

**Now for some thanks: BeckyC.1, XritaskeeterhatersX, Princess-Amon-Rae, Brook-Lucas-Fan-23, , thefreedomsock, kraney, Oh Hi, RavenclawPride06, EbonyK, FantasticalPlum, julielovesthisbook, BluePixieOfTheGalaxy, mspstar97, and whomever my lovely, dedicated anon on tumblr is! This chapter is dedicated to all of you for your ridiculous patience :)**

**CHAPTER 9 - DEAD END**

Before I could even register my predicament, George had stormed out. So fast I'd thought I'd been hit with a Stinging Hex, I shot up from the floor and headed after him.

"Katie-!" Eddie called after me.

I wheeled around, already halfway out the door.

He considered me for just a second but said, "Never mind."

Without waiting for another word, I spun around and tore off towards the Quidditch pitch, muttering a chorus of "oh shit, oh shit" all the way. Once the team came into view, however, I found a totally unexpected scene that rendered my curses somewhat unnecessary. Everyone was practicing normally, save for Oliver's typical scowl and George's not-so-typical one. Wary as to whether or not their initial anger had blown over, I treaded carefully towards them, for surely George had reported to everyone what he'd stumbled upon in the locker rooms.

"Bell, what are you waiting for? Go get your broom and get in the air," Oliver instructed, seemingly over our row. I connected eyes with him and in that moment, I knew: he had no idea. George hadn't told him. I breathed a sigh of relief as I retrieved my broom from where I had thrown it in my rage and found that still, even after Oliver had resumed being civil towards me, I didn't regret kissing Carmichael. I didn't regret it one bit.

As to avoid bringing light to what had transpired in the locker rooms, I decided to confront George after practice was over. The rest of the session ran more smoothly than I expected as I waited for the time to pass: I missed several more passes and goals but Oliver kept his mouth shut. He didn't even look at me condescendingly. George, on the other hand, didn't look at me at all.

"That's it for today, guys," Oliver called as he waved us over. "And since I'm feeling generous, we'll take the day off tomorrow; however, this does not mean you use it to goof off. I want you all to properly rest up! Got it?"

Fred saluted before descending with the rest of us. When seven pairs of feet were firmly on the ground, I hung back from the rest of the group and noticed that George had done the same-he'd been expecting this. Oliver and the others continued towards the locker rooms and I found myself staring after them, hoping to Merlin that Eddie had left. It wasn't until I realized Oliver was looking back at me that I turned towards George.

"You didn't tell him," I said. It wasn't a question.

George glared at me and didn't reply.

"I can't thank you enough, George," I professed and then laughed a little nervously. "I don't deserve you."

"What the hell were you thinking?" he finally growled. His eyes were black.

"What do you mean?" I answered stupidly.

"Kissing Carmichael like that!" he yelled. I looked anxiously over my shoulder to make sure the others had made it inside. "What was that, Katie?"

"I was mad, okay? I don't know what came over me. I just kissed him. It happens!"

"Kisses don't _just happen_, Katie! Forgetting your homework just happens, missing a pass just happens, not kisses! How could you do that to Oliver?"

"How could _I_? Have you forgotten how he's treated me? It's like I haven't existed these past few months! Everything is Sarah Fawcett this and Sarah Fawcett that! You heard him, he said he'd rather date her!"

George answered calmly, assuredly. "I heard him."

"Then how come you don't agree with me?"

Crossing his arms and looking me squarely in the eyes, he responded, "Because I've also heard him talk about you. He's not the kind of guy to talk about his feelings and when I noticed you worrying about it, I confronted him about Fawcett. And you wanna know what he said?"

I was shocked George had even breached the topic with Oliver. "No, I don't."

"Well, I don't care what you think anymore, you lost that privilege. He said, 'She's a pretty face and all, and somewhat good at Quidditch for someone not on a house team, but that's it. No competition for my Katie. None at all.'"

That was a little unsettling. "That doesn't make up for anything! So he cares about me a little, I'm his girlfriend! He's obligated to. That doesn't excuse his behavior!"

"No, it doesn't," George responded, "but nothing, I repeat _nothing_, excuses you from kissing Carmichael! Yeah, Oliver is a thickhead, but Katie, he doesn't deserve that. That was low."

"I did what I had to do!" And suddenly Eddie's words were running through my head. "I don't deserve to be treated the way Oliver treats me! I deserve better!"

"No, you don't!" George shouted. "Oliver can be a prick, but he would _never _betray you the way you betrayed him."

"I don't care, I wanted to kiss Carmichael, so I did. So kill me."

George's eyes narrowed. "You disgust me."

_You disgust me._

"W-Why didn't you tell-tell him?" I choked.

"Because you're not getting out of this that easy. You brought this upon yourself and now you have to deal with the consequences. I'm not helping you anymore. You're telling him yourself, you coward."

"What happened to you? I thought you were on my side!" Tears were streaming down my cheeks as I clenched my fists in despair, anger, something.

"Yeah, I was."

And then he walked away.

* * *

I couldn't face them. Instead, I holed up in my dorm, skipped dinner in favor of some chocolate I'd had leftover from the last Hogsmeade trip, and faked sleep when I heard Alicia and Angelina enter. I knew I couldn't keep it up forever, but I was going to do my damnedest.

The next morning, I woke up and hurried to beat the others to breakfast. Once I'd finished my porridge, I ran to Transfiguration and immediately sat down next to the only other student in the room, leaving no open seat next to me. Fifteen minutes later when the rest of the class began filling in, I did my best to avoid looking up for Alicia, Angelina, or the twins. This continued for the rest of the day until right after Potions when Angelina and Alicia cornered me.

"Okay, what's wrong?" Alicia asked as both she and Angelina stopped right in front of me, effectively cutting off any chance of a getaway.

"What do you mean?" Yeah, I knew it was a lame reply but they had caught me off guard. I would need at least a week to come up with either the courage to tell them the truth or a worthy excuse.

"You've been avoiding us all day," Angelina said.

I bit my lip for a good few seconds before I said, "I've been sick."

"With what?" Alicia asked.

"I…I don't know. But I know it's contagious and I didn't want to get anyone else sick so…yeah."

Angelina looked at me disapprovingly. "Katie, if you're sick then you should really go to Madam Pomfrey."

"I-no!"

Both girls stared at me. "No?"

"I mean, I must have caught it from practice the other day and you know how much Pomfrey hates injuries and illnesses due to Quidditch and stuff so I'll just wait it out." I took a deep breath.

Alicia considered my lie for a moment. "Fine, but you don't have to ignore us. Besides, Oliver's been asking about you."

That brought me up short. "What?"

"He hasn't seen you since your fight. He's worried about you."

Oh yeah, she was right. In Oliver's mind, our fight had just been another bump in the road, nothing out of the ordinary. To him, it wasn't the fight that pushed me over the edge, it was just a row like any other.

"Oi, Fred, George! We found her!"

Alicia's voice snapped me out of my stupor. Following her gaze, I spotted a couple of ginger heads moving toward us.

George's eyes locked with mine for a second before I bolted for Gryffindor tower.

Hardly pausing long enough to give the Fat Lady the password, I kept running until, at the base of the staircase to my dorm, I hit something solid.

"Sorry," I stuttered from my place on the ground. "I, uh-"

"I know you're trying to avoid me and I want you to know that I'm not going to let you."

Oliver grabbed under my arms and helped me up, but once I was steady, his hands were immediately blocking my path.

I wanted to yell at him to move or at least yell at him for being stupid but the lump in my throat wouldn't allow it. I tried to wiggle around him, utilizing my chaser reflexes to the best of my ability but escape was futile. I dodged right, I lunged left, but he was always there.

"You're not getting past me, Katie. I've dedicated my life to being a keeper, remember? If there's one thing I'm good at, it's blocking."

There it was. Everything always came back to Quidditch.

"Merlin, will you just shut up already? No one cares about goddamn Quidditch."

"One, that's a lie. You care about it. Two, I can't help it. I haven't had you to distract me so I've reverted back to my Quidditch-obsessed ways."

"Please enlighten me as to when you were ever _not _obsessed."

Oliver's eyes softened. "I've missed you, Katie. What's wrong?"

"Let me go." Somewhere in the middle of our conversation, he'd grabbed hold of my wrist. He didn't comply. From somewhere behind me, a person loudly cleared their throat before pushing both of us out of the way and climbing up the staircase. Oliver tugged me towards the corner of the room.

"What happened?"

"Nothing happened, now let me go. I just want to be alone." This time when I tried to pull my hand away, he put up no resistance.

"Katie."

I had to get away. I wasn't ready to tell him.

"You can talk to me about it. I love you. I'll listen."

Last chance.

"I can't do this anymore, Oliver." I couldn't. Not to his face.

He put his hand on my shoulder. "Do what?"

"You don't know."

"Know what?" He placed himself directly in front of me, blocking the entire room from view. All I could see was his face. There was no more getting out of it.

"The other day at practice, w-when we fought. I-when I ran into the changing rooms."

"Yeah, I know. It was a pretty bad fight but it's not like we haven't had those before. I'm sorry for everything I said and I-"

"N-no, you don't understand. Carmichael was there and-"

Oliver's grip tightened on my shoulder. "What was that scum doing there? He _knows _that's Gryffindor territory. How dare he sneak in! He could've been a spy for Ravenclaw-"

"I kissed him!"

"What?" Oliver's arm dropped automatically.

I squeezed my eyes shut-I couldn't bear to look at his face. "He was there and he was trying to cheer me up and i-it made me realize-and I just kissed him."

He didn't say anything.

"Oliver, please, let me explain."

"Why? What is there to explain? You kissed him. _He _didn't kiss _you. _What makes you think you have the right to explain this?"

"Because I wanted to do it! You hear me? I was so sick of arguing with you and worrying about us and dealing with Sarah Fawcett and you placing fucking Quidditch before me. I'm a _human being_, Oliver! Believe it or not, I have feelings! I'm sorry I acted upon them like this but I don't regret it! I kissed Carmichael because I _wanted _to. Because he cared about me when you didn't, when you didn't give a fuck."

"Get out of my sight."

"Believe me, I'd love to. I'm done with you."

As I finally charged up to the dorms, I heard him slump to the ground.


End file.
